A Hobbit's Instincts
by obeytherandomness
Summary: Hobbit instincts were a thing to behold. They were so strong in fact, that they extended even to their soulmates and called them to the other at the slightest sign of danger. That is how Bilbo finds himself making a great trek all across Middle Earth to find his own soulmate. This is a slow burn Thilbo fanfic.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Thank you so much for reading this fanfic. I had originally planned on waiting to publish this story until I had at least finished writing I See Fire, but I love it so much and I already lost it once (I had several chapters written already) to my computer crashing and I don't want to take that chance again, so here it is for your enjoyment. Please feel free to leave me any comments as I love all the things that everyone says.

PS. When I say this is a slow burn Thilbo fic, I mean its going to be several chapters before Thorin is even introduced. Just so you all know.

Anyway, Enjoy!

* * *

Hobbits have _no_ love for adventure. That is a well-known fact between all the peoples of Middle Earth (at least between the ones who actually believed Hobbits existed). There were many reasons for their utter hatred of such an event (unless they were Tooks who were a naturally more adventurous breed). Not the least of which was that they were nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things that perpetually made you late for dinner (or any other meal that happened to occur during the affair). They're hatred of adventures is so strong in fact that many who don't live immediately on their border believe them to be nothing more than a fairy tale.

Of all the many reasons that a hobbit refused to go on an adventure, there was exactly one that would call them out the door of their lovely, comfortable abodes without fail. A soulmate in danger.

Hobbit instincts were a thing to behold. They were so strong in fact, that they extended even to their soulmates and called them to the other at the slightest sign of danger. Usually this meant a short trek to the other side of the Shire where one's soulmate fell down a hill and twisted their ankle. Perhaps there would even be a vicious animal to contend with (hobbits had long since learned that many predators could be scared off with a fire if one was careful enough to bring one). On some rare occasions, however, the hobbit was called farther. So far in fact, that they were taken outside of their own borders and far into the wild. These hobbits were called the Unlucky Ones (and they never returned).

* * *

Bilbo Baggins had never once thought that he would be one of the Unlucky Ones. When many years passed without any sign of his soulmate being in any sort of danger, he had assumed that the other was a particularly cautious soul (even during the Fell Winter where many lost their lives and many soul mates were found). He paid no never mind to the fact that he got into plenty of danger when he was a fauntling and that he probably should have met his soul mate a long time ago if they had been a hobbit. He was, after all, very young at the time and their connection may not have yet solidified at that point (no hobbit could really tell when a soul mate connection was made for certain).

So Bilbo always stubbornly believed that his soulmate was indeed another hobbit (just like his parents). Yet, here he was in the middle of the night on the day of his birth, frantically throwing clothes and food into a bag while trying to get all his things in order. All because his instincts called him far to the East.

"Oh dear," he said to himself as he finally stepped out his door. He surely hadn't gotten everything that he needed and most certainly did not have enough food, but the door clicked shut and Bilbo had already sealed they key inside an envelope addressed to the Thain. "There's nothing for it. No time to go back. I'm sure I can cut back on eating." The grumbling of his stomach most certainly did not agree with him. "Oh hush," he said to the darn thing. "You'll wake the whole neighborhood."

"Mr. Bilbo?" someone asked from down the path a way, startling the poor hobbit who was already on the edge of his nerve anyway.

"Oh!" he said, clutching at his chest. "Don't scare me like that, Gaffer. What on this good Earth are you doing up at such a time of night anyway?"

"We heard some commotion from your smial," Gaffer responded. "I thought I should check up and make sure that you're all right." The Gamgee family (of whom Gaffer would soon be the head), had been the Baggins family's gardeners for generations and they were still very loyal to its head (who was currently Bilbo Baggins despite his young age).

"I'm quite all right," Bilbo said, "I've just received a distress and I must be on my way now. You understand right?"

Gaffer nodded. "I'll be taking care of your home while you're away then," he said. "Don't you worry about a thing."

It was indeed a relief that Gaffer would was so willing to assist Bilbo. He hadn't really been sure what would happen if he had left. Perhaps, he had thought, he would be declared dead and they would auction off all his things so that Lobelia Sackville-Baggins could take over his home (that would be a horrible outcome indeed). He knew, however, that Gaffer would never allow that to happen and it was indeed a relief that he gave his word to take care of it in Bilbo's absence. "Do you still have the spare key?" Bilbo asked.

Gaffer produced the little iron thing immediately. He had already had it in hand just in case he would need to make his way into the smial without Bilbo's assistance. "How long should I expect you to be away then?"

"I fear it may be a long while," Bilbo replied.

"That is unlucky."

Bilbo nodded. "I must be off now. I still have to meet with the Thain and I don't have much time at all. I may already be too late."

"I wish you every luck!" Gaffer called after him as he ran down the road.

* * *

"My dear Bilbo," the Thain said from his doorway, though his eyes were groggy and he was still very much in his night gown (he must have been truly cold as he let the nighttime air into his house for the sake of speaking with Bilbo), "what brings you here so late at night?"

"I have come to give this to you," Bilbo said, holding out a fat envelope. "It contains all my instructions on how to keep my house and property as well as my will if I should not return within a year or two."

Suddenly, the Thain straightened, his eyes turning sharp. "Is it so dire?" he asked.

"It is," Bilbo nodded, hopping from one foot to the other in his impatience to be on the road. "I fear I might not make it in time, though I am sure the danger is still months away."

"I see," the Thain replied. He turned to another hobbit who was equally dressed in his night robes and said. "Go and get the pony we purchased from those men the other day." Then he turned back to Bilbo. "I feel your need for it is greater than ours."

"Thank you!" Bilbo said. Had he not been so worried, he may have even managed to smile up at his kind grandfather who was willing to give him such an expensive gift. The Unlucky Ones were often shunned once they found themselves to be such. They were often treated as though they were already dead because no one believed that they would ever come back (though everyone liked to believe that they did find their soulmates and just chose not to come back). Therefore, the giving of gifts was often avoided because there would be no return for them.

"You had better write to me," the Thain said, "as soon as you get where you're going."

"I will do my best to get word to you as soon as I find what I'm looking for," Bilbo responded.

"And you'll bring them to meet us, won't you?" the Thain said with a raised brow as the pony was finally brought around to the door. "I will not have my grandson marrying away without even meeting the one he is to be married to. They had better be a good person or I won't tolerate losing you to them."

Bilbo scrambled atop his new pony with a hobbit's help and grinned. "I'm sure they're the most amazing person in the world," he said.

"Good," the Thain nodded. "Go now, but remember not to push too hard. You will do little good to your soulmate if you or your pony go down on the way there. I expect to receive my grandson back in good health."

"I will be careful," Bilbo said and with that, he kicked the pony's sides and the two of them were off into the wilderness (hopefully to be seen again).


	2. Chapter 2

Bilbo lost no time in getting on the road (there was no time to lose after all) and he tried to make any stops that he had to as short as possible. He passed through the city of men and spent a night in the Prancing Pony before continuing on the road. He couldn't resist stopping in Rivendell (because who could resist seeing the beauty of the elves), but he limited himself to a single night in their libraries (and he promised himself that he would most certainly return to them at some point). There was some time lost as he was forced to find his way around the Misty Mountains because Bilbo's instincts wouldn't let him set foot on top of them. He wondered for a time what could possibly be so dangerous that it would span over the entirety of the mountains, but his thoughts were quickly pulled away by the more pressing danger of his Soulmate.

Due to the loss of time, Bilbo spurred his pony (who he had named Myrtle somewhere along the way) on too fast for her own comfort. He did feel bad about it, of course, but he needed to make up for lost time in any way possible. That's why, when he came upon a large house surrounded by a beautiful garden (pollenated by the biggest bees Bilbo had ever seen) and surrounded by horses and ponies and other such animals, Bilbo thought it was high time to stop for a night. As long as the owner allowed it of course.

Luckily, the owner of the house (who was a great massive bear of a man named Beorn) was actually a very kind person when he was convinced that Bilbo was not, in fact, a dwarf. He invited Bilbo into his home and didn't even laugh when Bilbo was forced to climb into his massive chairs as though he was a baby trying to take a seat at the adult's table. Their conversation was light and Bilbo was fed to the brim with bread and honey and milk. It did well for his empty stomach (he had long since had to cut back on his seven meals and his stomach still almost always felt hungry). It wasn't until Bilbo asked for the quickest way to get where he was going (he was forced to point in the direction since he still wasn't exactly sure was his destination really was) that the conversation suddenly turned dark.

"You will have to go through Greenwood," Beorn said, his eyes darkened and his lips turned down.

"Is it not a good place to go?" Bilbo asked.

"The wood elves are not like their kin," he said. "They do not welcome visitors."

"Then I shall avoid them," Bilbo said with a nod to himself. It seemed easy enough. If he should get too close to them (and if they really did have any sort of bad intentions) he could just turn away and go another direction.

"There has also been rumor of evil things growing in that forest," Beorn said. "The woodsman are starting to call it Mirkwood. I would not go there unless you truly have to."

At this Bilbo frowned. "How long will it take to go around? I don't have much time to spare. I feel that I am already running late."

"If you are running late, then that is the only way to go," Beorn said, "but you go at your own risk."

"Then at my own risk I will go," Bilbo said. The moment his decision was made, his instincts flared. They were not happy about such a dangerous decision, but it was his following them that caused him to have such a delay. He no longer had any time to waste on their interferences. Besides, they weren't too bad that it seemed like he would be killed. As long as he was careful and kept a close eye on them, he was sure that he would make it through with little trouble.

Bilbo only stayed one night at Beorn's house (and even that he was forced into because Beorn said he should not be on his land at night if he wanted to keep his life) before he mounted Myrtle again and set off with only Beorn's warnings to stay on Greenwood's path if he didn't want to get lost. "I will!" Bilbo called back, though he wasn't sure that he would keep that promise. Elvish magic was strong and Bilbo was sure it could set anyone astray, but he had all the confidence in his own instincts. If they should lead him off the path to get where he was going, then off the path he would go.

* * *

"Indeed, this is a Mirkwood," Bilbo said to himself as he and his pony took a rest on its edge. Though the sun was high in the sky, the trees cast shadows so deep that Bilbo could not see more than a few feet into the woods. Not only that, but there was a certain sickness (Bilbo couldn't think of anything else to call it but that) that permeated the woods and messed with his senses. "Well," he said to Myrtle, "no point waiting out here. Too much time lost already. We'd best be on our way, I think. The sooner we start, the sooner we get this over with." Myrtle shook its mane, but made no rebuttal (not that it was really required since Bilbo was clearly trying convince himself anyway).

Inside the forest was just as bad as the edge promised it to be. Bilbo's instincts were on high alert and he found himself jumping at even the slightest of sounds. It didn't help that there were several times that it looked as though there were eyes watching him in the dark. "I suppose we should stay on the path after all," Bilbo said aloud if only to cover the suffocating silence (it's not like Myrtle would do it). "Shouldn't mistrust advice so kindly given anyway. Beorn was a kind man. I do hope I will be able to meet with him again. Perhaps my soul mate will take me to see him? What do you think Myrtle? You can come with us if you like. I think if we do go, though, I should very much like to avoid this dreadful forest. I don't like it here one bit. What about you Myrtle?" Myrtles, as always, did not answer and Bilbo crossed his arms in a pout atop her back. "Of course, you don't answer me," he said. "It's not very nice, you know, to ignore someone in such a way. You could at least acknowledge that I'm talking to you. But of course, you are a pony. I wonder if you even know what I'm saying at all. Well, now I feel kind of silly. Of course, you couldn't answer me." Myrtle remained pointed forward, taking each careful step with a regard more than Bilbo was willing to give at the moment. "I do apologize for being cross with you," he said. "I don't know what's come over me. It's just that, I really wish to be out of this forest. I don't know how much time I've got left after all. You understand, right Myrtle? Of course you do. You are a good pony, aren't you?"

Myrtle remained silent and Bilbo was forced to fall back into silence himself, having nothing more to say anyway. Yet, still, he felt antsy. He looked around at the darkness as though there was something that would surely get him if only he let his guard down, but his instincts did not scream at him to get away as they would normally when he was in so much danger that he might even lose his life. In fact, his instincts were screaming for another reason.

And then they suddenly stopped.

Bilbo gasped, pulling Myrtle to a halt with more force than was strictly necessary. "No!" he whispered, clutching at his chest. It could not be. He did not make it this far just to fail. Surely not! His heart pounded against his rib cage and Bilbo doubled over, gasping as though he had run a long way without taking a breather. Surely he was not too late. Yet the danger was gone. It had already come and passed. Bilbo had failed to make it in time and with his instincts as strong as they had been, there was no way that his soulmate survived.

Bilbo doubled over himself on top of Myrtle, reaching around the pony's neck in search of what little comfort he could get in this desolate place. Great big tears gathered in his eyes and fell down his cheeks with little abandon. "I've lost them!" Bilbo cried out. "I've lost them!" Myrtle stamped her feet, prancing back and forth on the path. "What do I do now? I've lost them! I was too late! I wasn't even able to meet them! It's not fair!"

Suddenly Myrtled neighed loudly and bobbed her head until Bilbo was thrown from his seat on her back. He fell with a harsh thud and scraped his hands and knees on the rock path. "Why would you do that?" he asked, looking up at the pony with wide eyes, the tears still streaming down his face slowed somewhat in his shock (Myrtle was such a good pony that this was the first time she had ever acted up after all). Yet Myrtle refused to look at him. She stood tall and looked into the distance. It reminded Bilbo so much of his mother when he was crying for no reason that it startled a laugh out of him. How could his pony seem so smart in situations like these, but absolutely dumb at other times? "It's not fair you know," he said. "You shouldn't make me laugh when I'm so sad. I've just lost my soulmate, you know. It's perfectly acceptable for me to be crying," but he didn't really feel like crying anymore. In fact, he suddenly didn't feel sad at all (which was weird since all the other hobbits who lost their soulmates had always reported a sadness all encompassing that nothing could cure).

"Oh! Oh! Myrtle! They're alive! They survived!" Bilbo jumped on his toes and clapped his hands, drawing Myrtle's attention back to him. "Of course! My soul mate wouldn't be brought down by such a danger! I'm sure they are so strong. I bet they beat it down without warning necessary! Of course!" Myrtle leaned down, nuzzling Bilbo's cheek and allowing Bilbo to hug her neck once more. "I think we should continue on. What do you think Myrtle? Surely we'll meet up with them if we just continue going the way we were!"

* * *

AN: I just wanted to point this out, but I envision Bilbo having only just come of age in the last chapter (so he'd be 33) since this occurs before the events of the hobbit, which is why he seems a little younger in this chapter than he was in the books and movies.


	3. Chapter 3

Bilbo took up the reigns of his pony without a moment to lose and scrabbled back up on her back. "I'm becoming quite good at this I think," he said once he had settled on her back. "I think I might be the best horseman in all the Shire." He giggled. Now that he knew that he was worried for nothing, there was too much nervous energy in his system making him giddy. "Though I'll never be like Bullroarer Took. He was so large he could ride a real horse you know. Not that you aren't just as good as a horse, Myrtle. I dare say you are quite a lot better because you don't have all that extra space."

Myrtle did not respond. She only continued forward through the Greenwood until they reached the other side with nary a lick of danger finding them in the end (though Bilbo did have a few close calls with some plants that he figured out were decidedly not safe for consumption). She made such good time, in fact, that it was barely a week later that they found themselves at the edge of a large lake.

"Oh dear!" said Bilbo when he brought Myrtle to a halt at its edge for water. "If I idn't know any better, I would think we were on the edge of an ocean. It's a good thing we aren't, of course. I don't think you would like the water from the ocean, after all. It's too salty. But now how will we cross this great massive thing. I'm quite certain that I need to be on the other side of it. Perhaps there are some docks around where I can ask them for a ride. They'll have to have a big boat to get us both across. I hope we can find someone."

Unfortunately, there were no docks to be found on this side of the lake, but Bilbo was able to wave a couple relatively good sized boats towards him. All of them were kind enough to offer Bilbo aid in getting to Laketown (mainly because all of them thought him to be a lost child looking for his mother), but when he mentioned that he actually wanted to get across the water they were all quick to find reasons to be anywhere else.

"I'm sure they're all very busy," Bilbo said to Myrtle when he finally decided that the men would be no use to him and he would just have to go around the entirety of the lake. "Still, I think at least one of them should have been able to spare the time you know. Not that it's a big deal now. Since the danger's gone, I'm on no sort of a time schedule. Though I do wish that I could meet my soul mate just a little sooner. Oh well. Father always said: Patience is a virtue."

It took far longer than Bilbo was really expecting to go around the river, but he blamed that on his maps that always made everything look smaller than they were (though it also might be because he unknowingly went the long way around). It took him a full week and a half to get around with stops to catch fish (a pass time that he had never been all that fond of, but had learned nonetheless) and allow Myrtle some rest and water. There was no reason, after all to push them as he had before.

Besides, he was starting to get somewhat nervous. "What if my soulmate doesn't like me?" he asked Myrtle in a fit of nerves. "I've heard that not all the other races have soul mates. That's not exactly a bad thing, mind, but what if my soulmate already has someone that they love? What would I do then?" Myrtle, as always, did not answer and the travel continued until they came upon the city of Dale many days later.

"Oh dear!" Bilbo gasped. "What on this Green Earth happened here?" The city of Dale (which Bilbo knew to be a city of men filled with beautiful white stone buildings from his many books) was in ruin. There was not a single building that stood unscathed. They were blackened beyond recognizability and many were crumbled to ruin. The land around Dale (which Bilbo hurried through as it seemed more of a ghost town to him now) was blackened and not a single green thing was visible in any direction. The land was scarred and charred and there were many places that had deep gouges that Bilbo was sure could only be killed by something truly massive.

"It's fine," he said to Myrtle, coming finally upon the Lonely Mountain (this he supposed had to be his destination since it was directly in his path and he knew of nothing useful beyond it). "I'm sure my soulmate took care of whatever it is and is just in the mountain helping everybody recover."

Bilbo spurred his pony on, fully intending for Myrtle to take them both into the mountain, but quickly thought better of it. "I don't think the dwarves really let ponies walk around their mountains. I've heard that they like to make slim bridges high in the sky. I don't think you would like that, Myrtle. You understand if I leave you here, don't you? I'll come out again and visit you, of course. I wouldn't leave you all alone." Myrtle's head bobbed and Bilbo smiled as he tied her reigns to one of the few trees that remained standing despite its blackened state. Just for her compliance, Bilbo fished out the best of his apples and fed it to her as he unstrapped his own bags to take into the mountain with him. "Now," he said to her, hesitating only a few feet away, "I best be off. My soulmate awaits!"

* * *

AN: Hey guys! Sorry about the short chapter. I was planning on going onto the next part in this chapter, but I just didn't think it felt right. So this is really more of an interlude than a chapter. I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless.

Also, I actually have no idea how long it would take to go around Laketown's lake, so I hope I didn't get it too far off.


	4. Chapter 4

The gate into the Lonely Mountain was no less damaged than the city of Dale. What was once a beautifully intricate gate (that Bilbo had seen in one of the books his mother brought back from her Tookish adventures) now there was only a gaping hole. Rubble crumbled both in and out of the mountain. Large rocks of whites and greens and angles unnatural for a mountain littered the ground in all directions as though an explosion had rocked the mountain to pieces.

Bilbo was forced to crawl over whatever rubble was left of a bridge to the font gates, only standing when there was no other way for him to get across. Many a hobbit had lost their lives to a drowning and Bilbo refused to be one of them when he was so close. From there it was just a matter of choosing which direction to go.

There was no one at the gate to point Bilbo in any one direction (preferably one towards food since Bilbo couldn't really ask them where his soulmate was and he was quite hungry) and the great hall into the mountain had many small side paths that led off into the darkness. "Now then," he said to himself (he hadn't realized how much he liked company until he left the Shire and now without even Myrtle with him, the silence felt almost suffocating, "which way should I go. Surely the sensible thing would be to go straight. It does seem to be the main hall and surely it'll lead to…the throne room. Dwarves have kings right? Yes, if I remember correctly, they do. So strange, but that's not important at the moment. Anyway, forward would be the sensible choice, but then I would have to come back to all these side paths. Besides, I doubt my soulmate will be in the throne room. Perhaps I would more likely find them in the market. At least if they're anything like me. But where exactly would the market be? Surely not straight, but none of these other paths really look like the way either. Hmm. I think for now I'll go right and perhaps I'll find someone who can point me in the right direction. If not then I'll go left. Right. That's the plan then. Onward, my Dear Bilbo, there's no time to lose. Let's go find my soul mate."

But his quest was not nearly as easy as he had expected it to be. A full week had passed with him taking side path after side path and getting quite lost on more than one occasion. Sometimes he even accidentally spent a whole day exploring a cave only to find at the end of it that he had in fact already explored it a couple days prior. It finally go to the point that Bilbo found a white rock on the ground and starting marking the walls and entrance ways with it. He did feel bad about that, but it wasn't like he had found anyone to get angry at him anyway (which was rather starting to concern Bilbo just a little).

It was at the end of another week that Bilbo was starting to think that his search was fruitless. "Perhaps my soulmate isn't here after all. This place seems absolutely abandoned. Is it possible that they are past the mountain after all. Or perhaps I missed them coming here. Oh I wish I could tell where my soul mate was without the danger to point me in the right direction, but I just can't risk it. Maybe if I just go down this last hall, then I'll find them?" This Bilbo had been telling himself multiple times in the last few days (unwilling to believe that he had in fact missed his soul mate). "I'll just go down this last hall and then I'll go back to Myrtle. I think she might be running out of the food I left her anyway and she surely won't be happy with me for leaving her for so long when I promised I would be back."

With that decided, Bilbo headed down the hall and was utterly surprised as night started to fall (at least Bilbo thought it was that late, it was really hard to tell time with no sign of the sun) and he actually heard voices. At first he feared that it was his own mind playing tricks on him, but a moment's listen revealed that the voices were echoing from a crumbling cave to the right (a cave that he probably would have avoided due to fearing it to be structurally unsound at any other time). With a grin, Bilbo scrambled into the cave and through collapsed rock that were barely big enough in some places to allow a full grown dwarf to crawl through.

"We're out of food," someone was saying when Bilbo finally got close enough to make out the actual words.

"Is there nothing left of the food stores?" another dwarf asked.

Bilbo hesitated outside the door. Would they think him weird for entering without notice. It probably wasn't a good idea. They seemed to be having a pretty important conversation. But why in the world were they talking about being out of food? There were several pantries that Bilbo passed filled with plenty of food to fill his stomach these last couple of weeks (he always left a bit of coin behind when he took the food for whoever it belonged to. He wasn't a thief after all).

"We've emptied all the nearby stores. No one who has ventured farther has returned," said the first.

"That's not good. At this rate the children will starve."

At this thought Bilbo straightened. If there was one thing that a hobbit couldn't stand for, it was the starving of children. He marched right into the room, surveyed the amount of children (half of them were children), decided that he had plenty of food left in his bag to at least feed them, and swung his bag from his shoulder to dig out the remains of his food. "Alright little ones," he said, ignoring the adults who were staring at him as though he had grown another head (which Bilbo thought was rather rude, but he wasn't exactly unused to it with how he's been treated on his trip), "line up. I'll hand out some food to everyone." The children, seeing the bread and meat in Bilbo's hands, scrambled to their feet and lined up before him, pushing and shoving to be first. "No cutting and no shoving," Bilbo said. "It's very rude you know. Besides, you'll all get your fair share… And nothing more," he said when he noticed one of the children get back in line after already having received their food. He would much better have preferred to give them seconds, but he didn't have enough for it and he must be fair to everyone.

"What about amad?" One of the little girls asked.

"I'm afraid I don't have enough for them at the moment," Bilbo said, "but there's plenty of food round the mountain that I'm sure they can take from."

"You've been around the mountain?" asked the first dwarf Bilbo had heard. He was dark haired with a full beard and dark eyes. He held himself low to the ground despite his tall and lithe frame and he kept a hand grasped tightly around the hilt of a sword at his side.

"Well of course I have," Bilbo said, handing out the last of the food to the last child and standing to throw his bag back over his shoulder. "Have you not been around the mountain yourself? There's plenty of pantries all over the place with lots of food. Though, I do have to say that you the dwarves should probably take better care to make sure they are still good. I mean, there were a couple of pantries near the front gates that are filled with spoiled fruits. It didn't smell relatively good, if you want to know."

"Did you come through the front gate?" asked the second dwarf. This one was wider set with massive shoulders and hands to match. His blonde hair seemed to have recently been cut at the shoulder, and there was a bit of a burn to the cloth on his back.

Bilbo sucked in a breath when he saw this dwarf. He felt so familiar. Not in the way a soulmate would, of course (if only Bilbo could be that lucky), but in a way that one had for someone close to their Other. This person must be very closely related by blood to his soul mate (hobbits could often identify those closely related to their soul mates, but anyone farther away would be a harder sell or else everyone in the shire would feel like a relative). "Oh dear," Bilbo said to himself. He hadn't made a good first impression at all and this was a relative of his soulmate. What if they told his Other that he was no good just because he was so rude to start with. "I do apologize. I should have introduced myself. My name is Bilbo Baggins." (He did indeed completely forget about the question asked of him).

"I am Frerin," said the blonde, "and this is my brother, Vili."

Bilbo frowned at the dark haired dwarf who scowled right back at him. He didn't feel related to this dwarf at all. Perhaps they were brothers by another reason. Bilbo had sometimes heard that men of arms would call each other brothers if they battled together. Perhaps that was the same for these two.

"Enough of the niceties," Vili growled. "Answer the question."

"The question?" Bilbo asked.

"Did you enter this mountain through the front gate?" Frerin asked.

"Well I think so," Bilbo said. "Only it didn't particularly look like the front gate that's supposed to be there. It was more like a hole. What happened there? Do you plan on fixing it any time soon?"

A murmur rose up in the crowd of dwarves, distracting Bilbo for a moment so he didn't see the two dwarves giving each other wide-eyed looks.

"How did you find this place?" asked Frerin when Bilbo's attention returned to him.

"Well I should hope that I would come upon it eventually," Bilbo said. "Your mountain is kind of like a maze, but I have been here for two weeks already."

"Two week?!" Someone gasped.

"And you haven't seen the dragon?" Asked another.

Bilbo froze. "Dragon?" he asked. He had only heard of them in the great history books, but they didn't particularly seem like the type of people that Bilbo really wanted to meet. They were always far too greedy and willing to kill. Bilbo was a far better fan of those who preferred food and home over gold and killing. Not that he would hold that against his soul mate if they happened to be that way themselves (maybe). "What dragon?"

"You haven't seen the dragon?" asked Vili. "Is it possible that the wyrm has gone?"

"No," Frerin said. "A dragon will guard his treasure to his dying breath."

"Oh yes," Bilbo agreed eagerly (he was trying to impress the in-law after all). "I've read many stories where the only way to rid a treasure of a dragon would be to kill it. Although, there are some stories where the main character leads the dragon away from his treasure with some other sort of treasure of greater magnitude in order to steal from him. I like those kinds of stories best."

"So the dragon is still here," said Vili, "but how did you avoid it?"

"I don't know about a dragon being here," Bilbo said. "I haven't seen one in the entirety of my life, so I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Did you not pass the treasure room on your way here?" Frerin asked.

"The treasure room?" Bilbo asked, thinking about it in his head. "I'm not too sure. What does it look like?"

"You would know it if you saw it," Vili said with a gruff, but Frerin grinned.

"This is good!" he said. "Do you think that you could take us back to the front gate with you."

"Brother!" Vili growled. "How do we know we can trust this creature. There is no knowing where he might lead us to. Perhaps he is in league with the dragon."

"I could take you back the way I came," Bilbo said, cutting in (it wasn't nice for Vili to assume he had dastardly plans and he was determined to set him to rights). "But the cave I came through was collapsed in some places. Surely you know of another way that we could get to the front gate?"

"Your way is the only way," Frerin said. "Will you take us there?"

"Of course," Bilbo grinned. "On one condition."

"What's that?" Vili growled.

"We have to stop for food on the way. I'm rather hungry myself and I don't particularly want to go without today."


	5. Chapter 5

"I still don't understand why you need my help getting out of your own mountain," Bilbo said as he watched the dwarves desperately gather themselves.

"We had thought that was the only way out," Frerin said, pointing to a wall of rock on the other side of the room. There were a couple boards sticking out of it and Bilbo wondered if they were trying to leverage some of the rocks free.

"Isn't it blocked?" Bilbo asked. "I would think that pulling rocks like that would cause a collapse. Didn't you even think to go around?"

"We didn't know it was blocked," Frerin said. "We usually make sure to keep this way open because it's the quickest way out of this part of the mountain, but when the dragon came, the mountain shook and many tunnels collapsed."

"Yes," Bilbo hesitated. "About that dragon. Are you quite sure it's here? I really would prefer not to run into such a thing."

"Well that's why we'll be going your way out," Frerin said with a smile, slapping Bilbo's back. Bilbo stumbled and pouted at the dwarf because that hurt (dwarves were strong after all and Bilbo's hobbit body was not made for such harsh interactions).

"We best get moving," Vili said. "Everyone's ready to go and I'd like to be out of here."

"You and me both," Frerin said. "Will you lead the way Bilbo?"

"Very well," Bilbo said, straightening his pack. He had come here in search of a soulmate and instead had somehow found himself in charge of an entire pack of dwarves. What a strange feeling that was (Bilbo was never the type to lead, though he did sometimes find people following him despite this).

The moment he stepped out of the room with the dwarves, however, Bilbo had to stop. The dwarves were concerned for several moments that Bilbo was perhaps lost after all (it was common knowledge that many people who came to visit the dwarves often got lost in their halls), but Bilbo's reasoning was of a far more troubling sort. His heart-beat quickened and his lungs suddenly felt restricted. Well, he thought, that's not good at all.

"Is there something the matter?" Frerin asked.

"Nothing at all," Bilbo lied, clutching at his chest. Drat his darn soulmate. Why did he have to decide to do something else dangerous at the same time as Bilbo? At least now he knew for sure that his soulmate was no longer in the mountain, but the double danger was throwing his instincts into such chaos that he felt himself struggling to breathe. Still, he pulled himself together and turned to the dwarves with a smile. He had made a promise and if there was one thing that a Baggins of Bag End would never do, it was to break a promise (not to mention he was determined to impress his soul mate's relative) even if it meant he would have to ignore his own instincts. Besides, these dwarves were counting on him now. No point in turning them away now. "If you'll just follow me. I do think we should hurry if at all possible."

"I agree," Frerin said. "Lead the way master hobbit. We will follow wherever you take us."

Bilbo led the dwarves through the mountain and down twisting halls (only pausing long enough to convince the dwarves that the caved in areas were indeed quite safe to crawl through if they were careful) and all the way to the main hall with little trouble. He was even able to stop at quite a few of the pantries that he mentioned earlier (the dwarves were a little confused to find random gold in each of the pantries, but quickly returned the money when Bilbo explained himself) so each of the dwarves carried a pack filled with food. Yet with every step, Bilbo's heart hammered against his chest, screaming at him to run away as quickly as possible.

"I think we've gathered enough," Frerin said to his people at the last pantry as Bilbo stood to the side, tapping his foot impatiently (it was rather rude and Bilbo would have admonished himself if he had noticed he was doing it). "I think now we should get out of here as quickly as possible."

"I agree," Bilbo said (rather too quickly for it to be normal).

Vili's eyes narrowed. He had been glaring at Bilbo suspiciously the whole trip, but now he seemed angered by Bilbo's very presence. "What has you in such a hurry after you spent two weeks here?" He asked. "Are you late to something? Perhaps leading us to your friends and our death."

"Well of course I'd rather be out of here quickly," Bilbo threw back at him, too antsy to keep himself in check. "If you'll recall, I didn't know there was a dragon to be worried about these past two weeks."

"And very lucky that," Vili said, pulling a dagger from his belt (the room was too cramped for him to pull out any of his assortment of bigger weapons).

"We hobbits are a very lucky breed," Bilbo said (if his voice shook in the face of the bade, he certainly wouldn't mention it to anyone), hedging the truth only slightly. There luck was relatively good, but only because their instincts kept them safe from harm. Else wise they would surely be extinct.

"And why should I believe that?" Vili said. "No one's that lucky. Much more likely that you are in league with the dragon."

"That's enough Vili," Frerin said, raising his voice over the muttering dwarves.

More probably would have been said if the mountain hadn't suddenly shook and a voice like thunder hadn't echoed through the halls. "I smell a rat," it said. "I thought I had rooted all the dwarves already, but there is still more for me to hunt. Come! Come and face me! See if you can take back this treasure. You will not take one single coin from me!"

"I knew it!" Vili hissed. "You are leading us to the dragon."

"The front gate is that way," Bilbo said, paying the gruff dwarf little mind. "If you follow the white marks on the wall, you will find your way."

"And what will you be doing?" Vili asked, his knife still held aloft.

"Well," Bilbo said (he certainly did not hesitate, thank you very much, he was just pulling his thoughts together). "We need a distraction don't we?"

Vili froze. "…What?" He asked.

"A distraction," Bilbo said, his courage suddenly multiplying now that his mind was made up (his fight or flight instinct now firmly set on fight for the sake of these dwarves). "I don't know if everyone will make it out alive otherwise. I can't allow that. I said I would help you all escape and help you I will do."

With that, Bilbo turned in the direction that his instincts were firmly telling him not to go and took off. He heard someone call out to him to wait and thought he saw someone try to grab him, but hobbits were quick and nimble. They would not be caught so easily. He escape with ease and ran corridor after corridor until finally the small tunnels opened into a massive room held open by rock tall rock podiums. Rising and falling like waves in an ocean, mountains of gold covered the floor of this room.

"Well," Bilbo said to himself (forgetting himself and his purpose in the surprise of seeing such a magnificent sight), "now I know why they said I would know it when I saw it. But why on this good earth should anyone need this much gold. Rather unnecessary, if you ask me." He picked up a goblet with a pretty, shimmering stone of many colors inside it to inspect. The goblet was made of pure gold and had a pattern of angular swirls pressed into its rim. "Far better to have good food. Oh if this room was filled with food instead of gold, I think I should never leave it."

"Who are you?" Bilbo jumped at the silky voice as a massive lizard-like face appeared before him. "I don't remember smelling your kind before."

Bilbo froze. He hadn't properly thought this through at all. How was he actually supposed to distract a dragon. He was only a small creature, after all, who was dwarfed even by the dragon's head. He felt suddenly insignificant and his knees shook underneath him. He wanted nothing more than to turn tail and run, but he wasn't sure if the dwarves were out yet. It would be best to give them just a few more moments if at all possible.

"And where are your dwarf friends?" The dragon asked. "They sent you in here to do their dirty work did they?"

"Dwarves?" Bilbo asked (okay, fine, his voice was definitely shaking now, but whose wouldn't when faced with such a massive creature). "I don't know any dwarves. I only came here because I heard tales of a dragon here. I've read about your kind in books and wanted to see one for myself."

"Do you think your flattery will convince me not to kill you?" The dragon asked. "You think that you can convince me that you did not come to steal when you hold my treasure in your hand? You think you can convince me that you are not consorting with dwarves when you stink of them?"

"No!" Bilbo said.

"No indeed," the dragon said. "Now tell me, how should you choose to die."

Bilbo jumped again. He had clearly angered the dragon and if there was something that was true in all the stories that he had read, there was no talking to an angry dragon. There was only one thing to do now. Run.

"Catch!" Bilbo yelled, throwing the cup as hard as he could over the dragon's head. Predictably (as all dragons' eyes are entranced by gold) the dragon followed the treasure and Bilbo ran back into the cave from whence he came (only barely dodging a burst of fire that followed him down it).

Bilbo ran with all his might through the maze of the mountain, this time following where his instincts lead him until he came once more upon the main hall. All the dwarves were already outside but two. Bilbo scrambled towards them as the mountain shook and angry roars made his sensitive ears ring.

Frerin and Vili both held their hands out for him and the moment they made contact with his skin, Bilbo collapsed.


	6. Chapter 6

Bilbo woke from his sleep with much surprise. He was not jolted awake or shaken out of a deep slumber. Instead he was slowly coaxed from his sleep by the monotonous sway of one foot to another that one generally feels when they are carried. Yet, still he felt quite a bit surprised to be waking at all. Who wouldn't, after all, when he had just lost consciousness when running from a dragon (not really a person's first choice of places to faint)?

"What on this good green earth?!" Bilbo gasped, jerking away (and almost overbalancing) from the broad shoulders that were holding the total of his weight.

"Woah there!" said Frerin. His face appeared suddenly beside Bilbo as his hand came upon Bilbo's lower back and pushed him back to his seat. "Can't have you falling right after you've woken."

"Where are we?" Bilbo asked, looking at his surroundings. There were no walls on either side of him, nor a mountain in his visual range. Instead he found himself with dark trees on one side and a lake that was so large it could have been an ocean on his other (both of which Bilbo thought were very familiar to him, though the angle made them seem slightly different). There was a caravan of dwarves ahead of him and his dwarven ride and only when Bilbo turned to see if there was any behind (there were about the same amount) did he finally catch sight of the Lonely Mountain in the distance. "Did we get away from the dragon?" he asked (he probably should have figured this out on his own since his sense of danger had long since waned, but he still had the danger to his soulmate distracting him).

"Surprisingly," said Vili (who Bilbo was surprised to find was the one carrying him).

"Everyone got out safe thanks to you," Frerin said. His hand still hadn't moved from Bilbo's back (which made him feel much like a child who couldn't be trusted to his own balance), but he did at least back enough away that Bilbo didn't feel crowded by him.

"You were foolish to face the dragon alone," Vili said, hiking Bilbo just a little higher on his back.

"Well there was nothing else to be done," Bilbo said (all false bravado now that he's assured there is no longer a dragon to be concerned about).

"You gave us a scare, though," said Frerin, "when you fainted. Oin was driving himself mad trying to decide why you wouldn't wake."

As if summoned by his very name, an old dwarf (who was carrying a curiously tiny trumpet against his ear) appeared in front of Vili, bringing them all to a halt. He pushed and prodded at Bilbo from every direction (Bilbo had no idea how, since Vili still wouldn't let him down from his back) and grumbled to himself.

"We might as well stop to eat something," Frerin said. "No knowing how long this'll take." The dwarven caravan immediately seemed to sag. More than one dwarf sat and sighed as they looked up at the sun. Only very few actually stayed active, pulling out pots and pans and other things they would need to fill their stomachs.

"I assure you," Bilbo said, struggling again to get down and away from Oin's probing hands, "I'm perfectly fine. Of course I fainted. I can't stay in fight or flight mode forever, I'll have you know. My Uncle, Bullroarer Took, died from fight or flight mode. But not before he knocked the Goblin King's head off and sent it down the rabbit hole. Mama assures me that's how the game of golf was invented, but I think she made that up."

"Fight or flight mode?" Frerin asked, raising a brow at him.

"Of course," Bilbo said. "Whenever someone's in danger, they go into fight or flight mode. It makes them better at whatever, you know. I'm sure I wouldn't have gotten away from the dragon without it, but it can be dangerous for long periods of time. So that's why I fainted."

"Are you talking about adrenaline?" Vili asked. He was a dwarf with two children and was well accustomed to translating simpler phrases (though hobbit's would be loath to hear anyone say it, they are thought of as children for their simple way of speaking just as much as their size) to common tongue.

"I don't know what that is," Bilbo said, "but, sure, if you say so. And now you know why I fainted, so there's no need to check on me." He tried to shove Oin's hand away from him, but the old doctor was quite adept at dealing with dwarves who insisted they weren't injured too much (even if they were bleeding all over the place) and just dodged his every attempt.

"He can't hear you," Frerin said with a grin. "He's quite deaf."

"Dead?" asked Oin pulling his horn to his ear. "No. He's not going to die. He's got a weak heart, though. I'll have to keep a close eye on him from now on. And you shouldn't strain yourself too much. This travelling can't be good for you. Perhaps, you shouldn't come along." This all Oin said in a mumbled until Bilbo could no longer hear what he was saying, but he had heard enough to be quite affronted.

"I do not have a weak heart," Bilbo said. "I can travel very well, thank you very much. I made it all this way from the shire all the way in the West with nothing but me and Myrtle." A sudden thought struck him, then. What had happened to his dear Myrtle. He had left her at the front gates of Erebor. What if she got left behind? He would never forgive himself for abandoning her to the dragon, if she did. "Where's my pony?" he asked, twisting desperately in Vili's hold to try to catch sight of his steed.

"Calm down!" said Oin. "Stress isn't good for your heart!"

"If you're referring to the pony that was outside our gates, we have brought her with us," Frerin said just as Bilbo caught sight of the pony loaded down with several bags not too far behind them. "I hope you don't mind that we've been using her to help us carry supplies."

Bilbo smiled at the pony who simply through her mane back to give him one long look as if assessing to make sure that he was okay (Bilbo was quite happy to think that she worried about him) before returning to munching on the grass.

"Of course that's quite all right," Bilbo said. "Myrtle can carry quite a lot when she has the mind to and she's a good pony. She only threw me once on the entirety of the trip and was very patient with me besides. Especially in the beginning where I could barely even mount her." Bilbo laughed and at the very same moment his stomach growled. He had no idea how long he'd been out, but he was sure that he had missed more than one meal. "I do hope the food will be ready soon," he said. "I am very hungry indeed. Perhaps there is something that I can snack on while we wait?" Bilbo had gotten into the habit of speaking to himself during the long trip, so he totally forgot that the dwarves could still hear him and thought only of filling his stomach.

Then his eyes caught sight of something that had him throwing himself off Vili's back so hard that the dwarf was forced to release him (finally) or hurt them both. "Don't eat that!" he yelled, racing up to a pair of children who were just about to snack on mushrooms they'd found at the forest's edge. The children looked up at him with wide eyes as though they were deers staring at the bad end of an arrow until Bilbo came right up to them and snatched the mushroom from their hands. "It's poisonous," he said, throwing the mushroom into the woods and far away from curious children. Of course, he didn't know for sure that it was poisonous, but he was quite certain that this was Mirkwood and his instincts had made it quite clear on his previous travels that anything in these woods would kill him. "Never eat anything from this forest."

One of the dwarrow-dams who stood before a large pot froze in her staring, looking between Bilbo and the pot. "You haven't put it in the soup, have you?" Bilbo asked. The dwarrow-dam only looked once more at the pot. "Well, hurry up and poor it out before it contaminates the pot!" Bilbo said, rushing over to be beside her while someone else pulled the children from the forest's edge. Cookware was, after all, a serious affair in hobbit culture and contaminating one pot was a serious tragedy. Especially with so little of it to go around.

Two dwarves were quick to stand and knock the pot over, spilling all its contents on the floor without any further prompting.

"Are you sure the plants are poisonous?" Frerin asked, coming up behind Bilbo.

"Quite certain," Bilbo said. "I'm a hobbit. We know our plants." It was only a half-truth, of course, but what Frerin didn't know surely wouldn't hurt him.

"I suppose it'll be bland food for a while then," someone said.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Bilbo asked.

"We only have fish and some very few vegetables that didn't look too spoiled. Nothing with real flavor." Someone said.

"What I wouldn't give for some meat right now." Said another.

"I won't stand for it," Bilbo said. "I will not eat bland food." Hobbits were a picky breed by nature who were often said to be fond of good food and drink, but what most people didn't know was that hobbits had sensitive palates. They loved good food simply because anything else was barely palatable to them. And it was for that very reason that Bilbo still had a tiny chest packed with herbs stuffed in his bag with Myrtle. Besides, this would be a good chance to impress his soulmate's brother (and the other who was a brother not by blood). The quickest way to anyone's heart (in a hobbit's mind) was with food. "I will make the food."

Before any of the dwarves could stop him, he pulled the pot up and put it back on the fire (after checking to make sure the poison hadn't set in by running his finger along its edge and licking it with no complaint from his instincts) to heat. "Somebody get me some water," he said, sending dwarves scrambling. He asked for several other ingredients as well and the dwarves practically climbed over each other to be at his beck and call. It was quite disconcerting, really, to have them so intent on him, but he supposed none of them had really had a good meal in quite a while. "Bring Myrtle here," he said and Myrtle was beside him in moments.

"Hello, girl," he said, allowing his soup to boil unattended beside him. It was practically done now and only needed the addition of his herbs to finish it off so it could wait long enough for him to talk to his pony.

Myrtle was not quite as in the mood to talk as he. She turned her head up and away from him as soon as he got close to her. She even went so far as to turn her whole body slightly to the side so she wasn't facing him. It was lucky that his pack was on this side and he quickly pulled his tiny chest out to tuck in his pocket before turning his attention back to her.

"Don't be mad at me," he said to her. He wasn't commanding, of course. Myrtle had every right to be upset with him when he left her out there all by herself for many days. "I'm sorry that I left you there for so long. I promise I won't do it again. I'll even give you an apple or two the next time we come upon some." Myrtle glanced at him and Bilbo could have sworn that she was considering him very carefully. "All right," he caved, "I'll give you three, if you insist. Will you forgive me now? Please." Myrtle nodded her head and turned to face Bilbo again. She tucked her chin over his shoulder and pulled him close to her breast. "I love you too," Bilbo said, "but now I've got to feed these dwarves. Don't want anyone going hungry. Besides, the quicker I feed them, the quicker we can go somewhere to get you those apples I promised you." Myrtle snorted, bumped her head against Bilbo, and then went straight back to munching at the grass at his feet.

"You are very close with her," said Frerin.

"Well, I should be," Bilbo said as he added his herbs to the soup. "She was my soul companion on this whole trip. We've shared quite an adventure together so far."

"How did the two of you make it all this way on your own?" asked Vili with a raised brow. He wasn't exactly accusatory like he had been in the mountain, but he still did sound quite a bit suspicious. "The roads can be very dangerous and there has been talk of orcs around these parts."

"I suppose I'm just lucky." Bilbo shrugged, focusing a little too hard on his cooking and wishing that it would finish cooking quickly so he could get away from this conversation. He hadn't thought about how he would explain any of this. It hadn't even crossed his mind that he might need to and he had no clue how to answer any of it. He couldn't just tell them the hobbits' secret.

"What does it matter?" said Frerin, cutting off anything else Vili might have said. "Those stories can come later." So he wasn't giving up on the knowledge either. He was just delaying it. "For now, I think we are all hungry. When will the food be ready?"

"It's not quite as good as I had hoped," Bilbo said, taking a sip of the soup and grimacing at the bland flavor. "The seasoning's not quite strong enough, but I suppose it'll have to do for now. Perhaps we can get more ingredients at the next town. Perhaps that town on the lake will be willing to sell us something. I did promise Myrtle to buy some apples. But that's not important right now. I think I can serve the food if I could just have some bowls to dish it out in."

Suddenly all the dwarves were standing in a line in front of him with bowls and cups and any manner of dishware that would easily hold the soup for consumption.


	7. Chapter 7

Bilbo fed himself last (as any good host would do) despite the dwarves' constant protests that they could dish up their own food and that he should go ahead and eat to conserve his health. Bilbo huffed about the comments on his health and refused to give up his ladle even with Oin hovering over him the entire time. Because of this, several of the dwarves were already done by the time Bilbo sat with his own bowl.

"Very good this," Frerin said, holding up his empty bowl.

"You may be able to get seconds," Bilbo said, "if you're quick about it. There's not much left, so I think it'll be gone very soon."

Frerin laughed. "I will hold off for now," he said. "Best to conserve our food. It'll be a long trip, I suppose."

"Will it?" Bilbo asked.

Frerin raised a brow at him and Vili glared down at his bowl behind the dwarf. "Didn't you say that you knew where to find some dwarves?" he asked.

"Oh yes!" Bilbo gasped (Bilbo was not known for his good memory, so much so that he often kept a book on him where he would write important things to remember). "Of course!" He dug into his bowl, hiding the warmth in his cheeks. Not a good impression. Not a good impression at all. He was supposed to be making things better not worse.

"And where would they be?" asked Vili in a grumble, finally setting his long empty bowl to the side (he had finished it before even Frerin who had been the first to receive a bowl).

"Oh!" Bilbo said again, but his brow furrowed. He didn't know where they were. Not really. He only knew what direction they were in and he had no way of explaining that to the dwarves (without revealing his hobbitish secret). Oh, if only he hadn't opened his big mouth. Bilbo's knees bounced (he would very much like to be bouncing on the balls of his feet in his nervousness, but couldn't really stand), and he bit his lip, completely forgetting about the spoon half raised to his face. "Well," he said.

"You didn't lie to us, did you?" Vili asked, his eyes narrowing and the sides of his lips raising.

"I didn't lie!" Bilbo said suddenly. He jumped to his feet and his bowl flew to the ground, still half full of food. Bilbo did not appreciate being called a liar in general, but to be accused of such by someone his soulmate might be close with drove him to such anger that he pointed without another thought. "They're that way," he said. Then his mouth snapped shut and he looked to the ground. Now he'd done it. He kicked a foot against the dust, wanting very much to mount Myrtle and run far away from this situation.

Frerin looked in the direction with a frown. "It would be better if you told us the actual place," he said.

"But I don't know a place!" Bilbo said. No point in trying to hide it when he was obviously utterly failing. "I just know a direction!"

"What's all this commotion?" Oin said, coming up beside Bilbo (he had left him alone only when Bilbo finally sat and had been keeping a close eye on his since). "You'd better not be upsetting my patient! It's bad for his heart!"

Bilbo would have complained about that comment, but the dwarves looked suddenly chastised and his heart did feel like it was pounding against his chest. Myrtle also came over at the commotion, nudging Bilbo's shoulder with grass still in her mouth. "It's alright Myrtle," he said, stroking her nose. It wasn't alright. He had no idea what to do now. There was no way that the dwarves were going to let this go despite Oin glaring down at them, but Bilbo still had no idea what to say. Myrtle chewed on his sleeve and it calmed Bilbo more than someone messing with his clothes really should.

"So, to the West?" Frerin said once Oin had finished his chastisement (which Bilbo had completely missed as he spoke to Myrtle). "Perhaps they went to the Misty Mountains?"

"What would they find there?" asked Vili.

"Moria?" said Frerin.

"Mahal," Vili cursed. "Why would they go there? That place is cursed."

"Agreed," Frerin said with a nod. "It'd be far better for them to go on to the Blue Mountains. Bilbo, are you sure you can give us no more than a direction?"

"I'm sure," Bilbo said with a nod. The words came to him suddenly now that he was calmed with his hand still rested on the side of Myrtle's neck (the fact that he didn't feel so interrogated also helped him slightly). His confidence raised now that he had the assurance of Oin's watchful eyes keeping the dwarves in check instead of him. He was, after all, a great winder of words (he didn't enjoy being accused with being a liar, but that did not mean that Bilbo was adverse to the twisting of a word or to). "I only passed the dwarves briefly and that was the direction that they were heading. Didn't have much of a chance to give the 'How do you do's' and all that. I know it's quite rude, but we were all in much of a hurry, I assure."

There. That would explain his knowledge without the dwarves thinking him impolite. Couldn't have them thinking him not fit for his soulmate because he didn't give proper greetings. Politeness, after all, was at the top of hobbittish culture alongside food and it was only Lobelia Sackville-Baggins (who was a horribly dreadful woman that Bilbo Baggins liked to pretend he was in no way related to) who ever disregarded the usual niceties.

Frerin and Vili nodded to each other and stood in tandem. "Very well," said Frerin as Vili turned to yell Khuzdul (at least Bilbo assumed it was the dwarvish language that he had read about in books), "We should be quick then. We'll need to go around Mirkwood and we want to catch up to them as soon as possible."

There was a sudden flourish of motion. Bags were packed quickly as cutlery and other such dishes flew through the air (Bilbo may have chewed threw his nails to see any form of dishware treated with such disrespect), and at some point Bilbo found himself with a new bowl in his hand with fresh food for him to eat. All of this only took a few moments and then Vili called out another word and the pack was moving again.

Bilbo cried out when he felt his body lifted (he would very much not like to be thrown about like the dishware, thank you very much), then sighed in relief when he was deposited on Myrtle's back. "That was highly unnecessary," he said in a huff once he was sure that he was properly situated, bowl of food held firmly in both hands (he had already wasted quite enough, thank you very much). "I can walk very well on my own." Though he didn't try to get down again because the dwarves were already moving at a quicky pace and he doubted that he would have the time to do so.

"Nonsense," said Oin with a small shake of his head. "We wouldn't want you overexerting yourself. It's not good for your heart. I'll make sure you don't do anything to exhausting. You're my patient now."

"I do not have a weak heart!" Bilbo said. He would very much like to stamp his foot and cross his arms, but as he was on top of Myrtle and his hands were wrapped around his bowl of soup, he could do nothing but sit there in a pout.

"What?" said Oin, pulling the trumpet up to his ear.

Bilbo wondered if the dwarf really was deaf or if he just had very selective hearing.


	8. Chapter 8

"Tell me Bilbo," said Frerin quite suddenly one day after they had cleared the forests of Mirkwood. The dwarf was not unkind and he did commonly speak to Bilbo if they travelled near enough to each other, but he had been quiet as of late and Bilbo was not expecting to hear anything from him today either. He jumped, (though his seat on Myrtle's back gave him little room to do so), and clutched his chest (as he was want to do when people surprised him). He really shouldn't have been surprised, of course, but he was already quite on edge as danger came nearer and nearer to his soul mate. He could only be glad that Vili was currently nowhere to be seen (for that dwarves always set his nerves on end).

Oin looked back at them and Bilbo was quick to remove his hand lest the dwarf come to pester him about his supposedly weak heart (Bilbo would rid them of that notion yet). Luckily, though, Frerin waved him off, so Oin only narrowed his eyes before turning forward again.

"What would you like to know?" asked Bilbo when Frerin did not continue.

"I want to know about your travels," Frerin said.

"My travels?" Bilbo asked. Curiously, none of the dwarves had asked him about his travels besides the initial wondering of why he was in their mountain, though they were quick enough to talk about their own.

"More specificially," said Frerin, "why you have come all the way out this way? What brought you so far away from home?"

"Perhaps I just wished to see the world a bit?" Bilbo said. He wasn't at all very convincing, but he wasn't sure what else he could say.

"The stories we have heard of hobbits is that they are very fond of home. Rarely have there been tales of one venturing outside of their lands and never has one been known to pass over the Misty Mountains," Frerin said with a raise of a brow.

"Are you sure?" Bilbo asked. His mother had been known to be a great traveler among their people and Bilbo had once thought that there was not a single place she hadn't been. Especially since she would tell him all these tales about different places in the world (though whether those came from books or adventures, Bilbo had never known).

"Am I wrong?" Frerin asked.

"Hmm," Bilbo thought for a moment, tapping a finger on his chin. "Certainly not many of us do travel. You'll never hear of a Poudfoot stepping out their door without a party to go to or a field to plow. They much prefer to sit around with their feet propped up and a pipe in their mouth. Oh! And the Bolgers! They're so big around the middle that it's a wonder they ever actually leave their beds. And the Gamgees. They are very fond of gardening. If ever you should need someone to fix up your gardens, you should go first to Hamfast. He's the best green thumb their ever was. Oh I do miss my gardener. He'll be keeping my house all nice and safe from the Sackville-Baggins's. Oh! But don't get me started on them. Dreadful people they are. You should see the way Lobelia dresses! She wears such dreadfully bright colors that clash horribly with her skin and hair. Not to mention her gaudy hats! She thinks she'll bring it all into fashion or something of the sort, but no one except her would ever wear such awful things. She'll go outside any chance she gets to "show off" and talk everyone's ears off. But the Tooks love to travel, I'll have you know. My mother once made it all the way to Rivendell and maybe even farther than that."

"And what of the Bagginses?" asked Frerin before Bilbo could launch into one of his mother's famous stories. "Do they travel?"

"The Bagginses!" Bilbo gasped. "Good heavens no! We Bagginses are very well thought of. We never have any adventures or do anything unexpected. When my father went on an adventure to save my mother, it was the talk of the town for years. I still hear tale of it every now and again. It's all very romantic, I'll have you know."

"He went to save your mother?" Frerin asked.

"Of course!" Bilbo said. "She was in danger, so of course he had to go out and save her. The tale of how they met was one of my favorites when I was a child, I'll have you know. Mama was being attacked by wolves and she was already injured when my father came just in time. He scared them off by throwing rocks at their head. He used to be the champion of conkers before I took on the game. Oh, but I can't quite tell the tale like my mother. She always makes Papa seem so very strong!"

"If they had not yet met," said Frerin, "then how did your father know your mother was in danger."

"Oh!" Bilbo gasped, throwing his hands in front of his face as his eyes widened. He had gone and said too much. Darn his habbit of going off on tangents without thinking of what he was saying. "I…um…he…" Bilbo rung his hands together on his lap, wishing more than anything that he hadn't even opened his mouth. What was he supposed to say now? Their Instincts were supposed to be a secret, but how was Bilbo supposed to explain this without them. "He heard about it from the Bounders," Bilbo muttered after a moment's thought. "The Bounders said they had seen the wolves on our borders and, um, Papa had heard about some hobbits going out that morning."

Frerin raised a brow, but he was kind enough not to press. "So then why are you all this way out here?" Except that what he chose to press was not any easier to answer.

Bilbo thought about it for another moment. Could he just tell this dwarf about it? There was nothing that said hobbits couldn't tell others about their soulmates, was there? Surely there wasn't. As long as it didn't include anything about their Instincts, Bilbo supposed (though how he would explain things without them, he would have to figure out as he went). Besides, Frerin would learn about it eventually if Bilbo ever found his other.

"I am on a search?" Bilbo said. "I'm searching for my soulmate. But you mustn't tell anyone!" The last thing he wanted was to answer the multitude of questions the other dwarves (who had somehow quickly grown fond of him (Bilbo was sure it was because of his cooking)) would surely pepper him with if they found out about his quest.

"What is a soulmate?" Frerin asked.

Had Bilbo been walking on his own two feet, he would have stumbled then. Or frozen in place to be run over by their merry band. The dwarves didn't know what soulmates were. They didn't have soulmates. Bilbo's heart sped up and he suddenly felt breathing was more difficult than it should have been. Myrtle bounced her head, tugging Bilbo's arms and forcing him to focus on her lest he lose his balance. He was glad for it (Myrtle always knew what was best for him) as it gave him just enough time to regain himself before Frerin noticed anything. 'Perhaps they just didn't use the same word for it?' Bilbo thought desperately.

"A soulmate is the other half of our soul," Bilbo said.

"Ah!" Frerin said with a grin. "It's like a One then." Bilbo smiled and nodded frantically. He knew they must just have different words just like they said adrenaline instead of fight or flight. "Once you fall in love you'll be connected forever, right? I don't have one myself, but my sister fell in love with Vili and they've been each other's Ones ever since."

Bilbo's smile suddenly felt forced as his knuckles turned white around Myrtle's reins. They weren't the same. They weren't the same at all. Suddenly, Bilbo recalled the stories his mother had read to him from the dwarven kingdoms. Dwarves were known to love fiercely. Once they fell in love they would never leave the other and would do anything in their power to protect each other. It was similar, but it wasn't the same. "No," Bilbo said. "A soulmate is more than that. A soulmate is our other half. We have been destined to be together from the moment we are born. We've loved each other even before we've met each other."

And then the other part of what Frerin said, came to Bilbo's mind. Frerin's sister was the One of Vili. She was in love with Vili. Bilbo's soulmate was related to Frerin. It was possible that Bilbo's soulmate was Frerin's sister, but she was already in love with Vili.

Bilbo bowed over Myrtles back, suddenly feeling nauseous and unable to breathe.

"Are you okay, Bilbo?" asked Frerin, but Bilbo could barely hear it. Everything felt dull. What was he going to do now? His soulmate might already be with another. He couldn't get between that. He never should have come out here. He was just getting in the way for these dwarves.

"Breathe, lad," Oin's voice was calm even as he tugged Bilbo off Myrtle's back to sit with his knees against his chest. "In and Out. That's it." This continued on and on until the only thing Bilbo could hear was Oin's calm voice in his ear telling him how to breathe. "What on Earth happened?" he heard Oin demand.

"I don't know," Frerin said. "We were just talking. I didn't know it would upset him so."

"Well, I forbid you from talking about whatever it is again." Oin mumbled before returning to Bilbo and pulling him upright to examine now that his breathing was calmed.

"It's alright," Bilbo struggled to smile. "It's nothing to worry about, I promise." He was just surprised by the news that his soulmate might not be his anymore. He should have expected it, (and he cursed himself for not) seeing as he had already known men didn't have soulmates. It shouldn't have been a surprise that the other races might not either.


	9. Chapter 9

"Well," Bilbo said to Myrtle once they were on the road again (when they had stopped for his little troubles, he had demanded that they should stop for food), "I think I should probably apologize to Frerin. What do you think Myrtle?" After being thoroughly chastised by Oin, Frerin was walking some ways of Bilbo looking more than a little dejected (though he was clearly trying to hide it from the rest of them) and Bilbo felt a little bad about it.

Myrtle shook her mane and bobbed her head, shaking the reins (Bilbo had given up trying to hold onto them since Myrtle clearly knew where she was going without his guidance anyway).

"You can't answer with both yes and no," Bilbo said, resting his hands on his hips. "It's not helpful at all. Well, I think I should no matter what you think. It's not as though that whole mess was his fault anyway. He was just telling me the truth. It was my own fault that I reacted that way. I should have expected this anyway. It's not like it's the end of the world anyway. Even if my soulmate will never love me," Bilbo clutched his chest at that thought, holding back tears that he didn't even really have the right to spill, "then I shall be contented with just spending my life at their side. I'm sure I could be useful in some way. Even if it is just as a friend."

Myrtle paid him no mind. Instead she came to a halt along with the rest of the group (which Bilbo thought was rather strange since they had only just gotten back on the road), and leaned down to chew on some grass.

"Now is the time that you are supposed to give your assurances," Bilbo pouted.

"Give assurances for what?" Frerin said, startling Bilbo (he had to reach out in fear that Bilbo would fall from his perch on Myrtle's back).

"It's nothing!" Bilbo said too quickly.

Frerin raised a brow. His eyes twinkled in the way that Bilbo remembered some of the fauntlings' having when they were up to some trouble or other. But he clearly remembered Oin's words because he glanced over at the doctor before speaking. "Very well. May I ask you about our destination?"

Suddenly Bilbo realized that Vili was stood behind the blonde dwarf with a raised brow of his own (he was clearly not used to seeing Frerin biting his tongue). Bilbo would have to clear up this whole misunderstanding rather quickly. He didn't like to be the cause of someone acting strangely. He wanted everyone to feel so at ease with him that they didn't ever feel the need to change themselves. Especially someone that was related to his soulmate. Family should always feel comfortable around each other (if they actually became family). Of course, this crazy notion that he had a bad heart was going to have to disappear before he could ever manage that.

Only, he still wasn't sure how exactly to apologize now. Apologies were supposed to be well thought out affairs (so said his father who never did anything without first sitting in his old chair to think about it). You can't just jump into an apology. You have to know exactly what you did wrong and make sure that you are truly sorry for your actions or else there is no point in apologizing. So instead Bilbo took the out that he was given by the dwarf (promising himself that he would think up the most sincerest apology later).

"Our destination?" He asked.

"Yes," Frerin said, glancing in the direction that they were heading. "We are not far from Moria now, but that place is cursed. Last I heard of it, it was overrun by orcs. Are you absolutely sure that the dwarves you passed on your way were heading in this direction?"

"Oh!" Bilbo gasped. He had completely forgotten that the dwarves were headed in this direction under his own orders. "Well I-" he stopped suddenly. His instincts weren't telling him what direction he was supposed to go anymore. The danger had stopped. But when did that happen? Bilbo couldn't point to a time specifically when he felt it disappear.

'Well,' Bilbo thought to himself (unable to talk to Myrtle with these dwarves watching him), 'I'm sure that my soulmate would have survived whatever it was. I mean they survived a dragon! What could be more dangerous than that?'

"You what?" asked Vili in his usual growl of a tone.

"I don't know really," he admitted. He hadn't really been paying attention to the ways that they went during most of their trip. He had only trusted that they would going in the right direction and that they were making good time (and he wasn't really too concerned about the danger anyway, since it couldn't be worse than a dragon). So he no longer had any idea which direction they were heading and which direction he was supposed to be heading to meet his soulmate.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Vili demanded, stepping forward with his sword already in hand. Now that Bilbo looked, most of the dwarves who had weapons were currently holding them. Apparently this land put all of them on edge. "We've come this far based on your instruction and now you tell us that you don't know! I knew we shouldn't have trusted this halfling!"

"Brother!" Frerin interrupted as Oin surged towards them, ready to get in the way before anything should upset Bilbo's heart.

Suddenly Bilbo was furious. Vili had done nothing but suspect him ever since he had met them in the Lonely Mountain. It wasn't fair in Bilbo's opinion (though he disregarded the fact that he was very clearly lying and keeping secrets to them, but that was besides the point anyway). Bilbo had taken them away from a dragon, for Yavanna's sake! Surely that should gain him some respect and trust. But no! Vili refused to even speak to Bilbo on most cases (he was a dwarf of little words anyway and only really talked to Frerin if he spoke at all) and only accused him of trickery when he did get to know him. 'Never judge a book by its cover,' Bungo Baggins had always said to Bilbo, 'for you never know what may be on the inside.' Vili had clearly never been taught such an important lesson.

What did Vili have to accuse him of anyway? Bilbo had been perfectly honest that he didn't know exactly where the dwarves were going. He had even said that he didn't talk to any of the dwarves that he passed. How was he supposed to give clear directions on such little (fake) information? It was the dwarves that had decided his soulmate would be heading towards Moria, not Bilbo (though he had agreed wholeheartedly when they showed him the map). And it certainly wasn't his fault that his soulmate wasn't in danger anymore (not that he was wishing they were either).

"I only pointed in a direction that I saw your people go, Master Dwarf!" Bilbo said, refusing to use the name of one who was being so rude to him. "It was you all who chose this place specifically. Of course, I wouldn't know where the dwarves would go. What little I know of your people is through books and the like. I didn't even know where exactly Moria was with how secretive you all are!" Bilbo had been keeping himself in check whenever these people upset him if only so that he wouldn't give a bad impression to his soulmate's family (and because the dwarves were rather imposing with their muscles and height compared to a plump little hobbit), but now he was very much done with it all. If this dwarf was going to act like a Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, then Bilbo would treat him as such (and it certainly helped that he currently had the height of being on Myrtle's back).

Frerin opened his mouth to cut in once more, but Bilbo was certainly not finished. He was done with this group of dwarves. The way they treated him like he was a child or an invalid only good for feeding them (though they were nice enough to him as a person). He was determined to show them that he could be more than that. He could be trusted and he was certainly not a child (he was 33 for Yavanna's sake)!

"And I don't know what has all of you in such a fit about this place!" Bilbo said, raising his voice now that he had his anger fueled confidence. "There is certainly nothing dangerous here now! I will prove it to you!"

With that Bilbo jumped from Myrtle's back (landing rather more roughly than was probably good for his ankles) and took off in the direction they had been heading. He dodged under Oin's arm and ignored Frerin's call for him to wait. He wiped the tears that were suddenly blurring his vision away as he ran despite the few dwarves chasing after him.

It wasn't fair! There was nothing dangerous! His instincts hadn't even caused his heart to flutter. The dwarves were just being unnecessarily suspicious (as Bilbo was starting to learn they always were). Bilbo was sure that once he broke through the trees and came upon the gates of Moria, there would only be a group of dwarves waiting on the other side. Perhaps they set up camp outside the gates before heading inside to remake their home. Or perhaps he would only find a guard or two protecting the outside as the others settled inside. Either way, the dwarves would be there and they would greet him much better than the group he was travelling with (which was probably completely impossible, but Bilbo could hope) and he would get to meet his soulmate and live happily ever after with them even if they don't love him.

The bushes pulled away and Bilbo's foot caught on something hard like a stick, but too smooth and heavy to be such. He fell, tumbling slightly, and landed on something too soft to be the rocky ground, but too hard to be a plant.


	10. Chapter 10

"I'm so sorry!" Bilbo gasped. He was mortified. It was beyond rude to tumble over someone who was resting in the fields (though more often than not it couldn't be avoided as hobbit's did love their sun naps). Honestly, he shouldn't have come running out here without any notice or warning of his coming anyway. He was just too upset and it showed in his manners.

Bilbo tried to push himself up again, off the chest of the person that he had so rudely landed upon, but his hand slipped in something sticky and wet and he fell again with a splat. "I'm so sorry!" He said again. Without a thought (and because he was so utterly mortified) Bilbo rolled right off the poor dwarf he had landed on and straight into the mud beside him. What a strange place to decide to sleep, Bilbo thought (though he had known some strange people in his life who had such preferences) as he I ally was able to dig his toes into some solid enough that he could stand.

As he stood, there was a tumble and crash behind him and then Frerin's voice. "Bilbo," he said cautiously, "come here."

But Bilbo was done be treating like a child and he refused to be corralled as such. He stood, fully intending to march to the gates of Moria (or any other person that he met on his way (since the person he fell on was so clearly such a deep sleeper that they didn't even react to Bilbo's rude cur furling) and show them all that he could very well take care of himself.

Only, the sight before him was not the one that he was expecting to see. He was sure that he should have seen rocks filled with bits of green here and there (as he had seen in one of his older books on dwarves), but he saw not one single rock before the mountain. Nothing was visible through all the blood except bodies of dwarf and Orc alike. Their faces were forever frozen in pain or anger. Their eyes wide and mouths open in a breathless cry. They did not sleep. They were not at rest and Bilbo could almost imagine them screaming their agony even in the afterlife.

Although most would like to believe that a hobbit such as Bilbo had never before seen such a horrible sight (the massacre of the dragon did not count for he left no bodies to witness), such was not the case for Bilbo Baggins. In fact, Bilbo had watched hidden in a cupboard as his mother and father fought side by side against orcs during the Fell Winter and had heard their screams as one and then the other fell to them. That did not, however, mean that Bilbo was immune to the sight. It was, in fact, the exact opposite. He screams of his mother and father melded along with the rest of the cries and it all rose in a cacophony that rushed through Bilbo's ears and froze him in place.

"Bilbo!" Frerin shouted, though it sounded like it was so far away. As though Bilbo was sinking to the bottom of a muddy lake and Frerin stood at the surface calling after him.

Suddenly, Bilbo remembered the mud that he had slipped in earlier and the dwarf that he had fallen on top of earlier (who Bilbo now realized was not breathing). Slowly, he looked down at himself. It was all red. Everything. From his hands down to his toes were practically covered in red. Even his Sunday best waistcoat had not survived no the emerald green contrasted so starkly with the red that it just stood out even more.

Bilbo screamed.

Long arms came around Bilbo as a broad chest blocked his view of the land before him. He didn't even have time to look up at the person before he was practically swaddled in furs and lifted onto someone's hip as though he were nothing more than a babe in his mother's arms (though he was quite a lot bigger even in proportion with a dwarf).

"We need to leave," he heard Vili say above him. "Now." And then he was being whisked awayback into the trees. But the copper tang never left his nose and he could almost imagine the taste of it on his tongue. If he closed his eyes, the faces returned to him. The screams wouldn't leave him alone, only growing louder when they returned back to the group (who had been told to stay behind just in case). Despite the warmth and comfort of the furs around him, Bilbo felt stifled as he hadn't done since he fell sick with The Fever during Fell Winter. He struggled to free his hands and cover his poor sensitive ears, but they were locked in place and a panic started to grow within him.

Vili yelled something that Bilbo couldn't quite make out (mainly because it was not in English) and then there was suddenly silence. Blissful, lovely silence.

"It's okay," Vili said. "Everything's okay. You're safe now. Evverything's going to be okay. Look. Here is Myrtle." Bilbo shook his head. If he looked up now, he was sure that he would see that battlefield again. He was more than content enough to keep his face buried in Vili's shoulder (though how in the world he got that way, he still wasn't quite sure). "Don't you want to say hi to Myrtle? She looks quite worried."

Myrtle nipped at Bilbo's hair and shoved at his shoulder and Blibo was torn. H didn't want to look up and be confronted once more with the battlefield, but if there was one thing that Bilbo would not stand for (besides of course the starving of children), it was making people worry about him. Bilbo turned his head just enough to peak out of his hiding place and Myrtle's nose was immediately in his face. She licked his cheek with her scratchy tongue (so much so that Bilbo briefly wondered if he he grass on his face) and snuffled at him. Her breath didn't smell very good (if Bilbo was being perfectly honest), but at least it washed away the copper from his senses for a time.

"You were right," Frerin was saying, "we should never have one here."

"It was worth the risk." Vili said.

"How is this worth it?"

"It is not the outcome we would have hoped, but at least now we know that the dwarves did come here."

"Yes. They all came here to die."

"Not all of them. There were some survivors."

"How do you know?"

"We would not have risked the children in such a way."

"Right. Of course, you're right."

There was a moment of silence and Bilbo was lulled by it. The screams had been soothed away by the monotonous voices in the background (despite the direness of the conversation) and Bilbo could almost imagine birdsong though he knew no bird would be so close to such a place. Birds had always calmed Bilbo when he was younger. Their sweet tones whistling outside his window in the rising morning light woke him from even the worst of nightmares. His mother had loved birds too. She particularly loved to watch them as they flit about freely in the sky, unperturbed by the troubles of the world.

"Perhaps you should lead us," Frerin said, cutting in on Bilbo's thoughts. "If you had led us, we never would have come to this place."

"You are wrong brother," said Vili. "I would have come here just as you have. It is only my duty as a captain of the guard to suspect. Do not doubt your own decisions. You are only doing what you feel is best for our people. Ou are our prince and I will follow you to whatever end."

Frerin laughed bitterly. It sounded so wrong on his lips. Although times were harsh and troubles many, Frerin seemed the type to smile often and laugh plentifully. Bilbo had long since thought that he should very much like to see the dwarf smile more and this only accentuated his desire. Had he been in a more pleasing mood (one not so so there'd by death and grief) he may have leapt from Vili's arms in that very moment t do something or other to make the dwarf laugh (though Bilbo was not a very funny hobbit to be sure). But, as it were, he remained bundled in fur, sniffling and sobbing, unable to calm the shaking of his hands against Vili's chest.

"I was never very good at the princing," he said. ""That was always Thorin's thing. Iwasn't even able to help the halfling just now. How am I supposed to help all these dwarves?"

"Not a halfling," Bilbo mumbled, more out of reflex than anything. Ten only thing that had been keeping him from commenting on the dwarves' constant use of 'halfling' were the manners that his father had ingrained in him, but now those were smothered by his treipdation and fear so there was nothing to keep it slipping. He would later be mortified (by this whole situation if he was honest) to have let himself go in such a way, but in his current state, the comfort of someone holding him as his mother once had was too good to pass up.

"Hey," said Frerin as Bilbo turned his head to look at the dwarf. "How are you feeling Bilbo?"

Bilbo didn't respond. The tears, he believed, were answer enough anyway and he was too lost in thought to make any real conversation.

This whole mess was his fault. He had lead the dwarves to this place and then in his arrogance he had tried to take them right to the battlefield. What was he thinking chasing the danger all the way to this point. It was one thing to take himself after his soulmate when the other was in danger, but to lead an entire group that even included children to such a danger when a horrible sin. And he hadn't even bothered to mention to them that the situation could have been dangerous (of course there is no nevermind to the fact that he couldn't have without giving away their hobbit secret). And now Frerin was doubting his leadership skills. All because Bilbo had selfishly wanted to meet his soul mate despite the danger.

He had to make it up to them. But how in the world was he supposed to do that? He had nothing to offer (besides his cooking, but how could that make up for this terrible mess). He didn't even have a direction to give.

Well, actually, perhaps he could.


	11. Chapter 11

There are really very many fairy stories in hobbit culture that have to do with soul mates and the adventures they had together (at least they were considered adventures to hobbits, though perhaps no one else would think them as such). Many of these contained a respectable hobbit who ventured out on a white steed to find his damsel in distress in the hour of need. In some a hobbit lass was called out in the dead of night still in her flowing night gown to put out fires and ward off thieves. All these Bilbo could recite from heart despite his bad memory (such was his love of all things book). The most unbelievable of all of them, however, was the ones where soul mates searched out the other through connections not yet established. So unbelievable were these that even some hobbits thought them to be a falsehood. No way could someone leave their physical body behind in search of another.

But Bilbo was of the mind that even fairy stories were based in fact.

Of course, he was not the only one who thought this was a possibility. There had been many a hobbit who had attempted such a feat (impatient as they were to find their True Love) and many had been lost to it. They would slip asleep one night, never to return again the next day. Those hobbits were considered even more unfortunate than the Unlucky Ones. For, though their spirit was gone, their bodies remained to rest. Some people held out hope for many days, waiting for them to awaken one fateful morning with news of a soulmate far away in one direction or another, but eventually they would all be abandoned. Left alone to whither slowly away in their beds.

Needless to say, Bilbo had always been cautious of trying such a thing. He was a patient hobbit and his father had always said "All good things to those who wait." He had always promised himself that he would never attempt such a thing unless at the end of most need.

"Perhaps I can find out where they went?" Bilbo whispered. Perhaps this did not count as the end of most need, but it was all Bilbo had to offer to make up for his horrible folly.

"How would you do that?" Asked Frerin.

Bilbo thought for a moment. He was in no mood to weave words now, nor was his mind in any state to do such faithfully. Yet he still could not say the truth either. "I cannot say." He said at last, flinching when Vili shifted. The dwarf had always been suspicious of him and would surely hate that Bilbo was not forthcoming. Being currently in Vili's arms, Bilbo was not in the best of places to anger the dwarf. "It's a secret."

Frerin looked up at Vili. His eyes weren't narrowed in suspicion. Nor did Vili burst out in rage as Bilbo had expected he would do. They just looked at each other in a silent communication for a moment before Vili looked back at Bilbo.

"But you're sure that you will point us in the right direction?" Frerin asked.

"I promise I won't mislead you this time," Bilbo said. He hadn't really misled them the first time, for course, but it could be considered as such if you took into account where he had lead them. It was a bad idea from the very beginning and he never should have risked it and that was what he would consider as misleading.

"We believe you," said Frerin after another meaningful glance to Vili. "You've led us this far. There's no reason we shouldn't trust you now."

Bilbo bit his lip. This dwarf was too kind. He did not deserve such forgiveness and yet this dwarf offered it to him freely. Such was meant to be returned with every good will Bilbo could muster. Perhaps he would whip up a proper feast (if they should ever get to a place that they could settle down) with his most favoritest of desserts from fruits grown from his very garden. There's no better sign of good wishes, his mother had always said, than to wish someone fat and lazy from a warm hearth and good food.

Ah, but of course he might have to make a new garden. That is if he never went home again. He should very much like to go home again, of course, but it would be a small sacrifice to spend the rest of his days with his soulmate. It shouldn't take long to remake his garden anyway. He might not have quite the green thumb as his master gardener, but Bilbo did at least fancy himself to be rather good at growing vegetables and other such things. And if he really tried hard he could grow a rather decent bed of flowers, though he much preferred to leave all that up that his capable gardener.

"Bilbo?" Frerin said, pulling Bilbo from his thoughts about gardens and the foods he could make from them.

"Yes!" Bilbo said.

"Is there anything we should know?" He asked. "Or anything at all you can tell us?"

"I can't tell you anything yet," Bilbo said after a moment's thought (he didn't, after all, have anything to tell). It's not like he could just pull the location of his soulmate out of the tip of his hat (he wasn't even wearing a hat) at the drop of a coin. It would take time (if he managed it at all). "But I will tell you as soon as I have any word of it."

"That's not what I was asking," Frerin said with a shake of his head. "Is there anything that you need to find them or something? I know your method is a secret, but we would like to help however possible."

"Oh," Bilbo said. He hadn't even thought about that. If he had been talking to a hobbit they would have immediately tried to convince him against trying such a folly and he had (in he back of his mind) kind of expected the dwarves to do the same. Of course, they couldn't warn him against doing something they knew nothing about. "Well, I don't think there is anything as such. At least nothing you can do for me now of course. I'll need your help for a bit while I look, but of course I haven't started doing that yet. And you don't honestly have to help me. I mean you would have to take me with you if you want my information, but I'm sure Oin would be plenty capable of taking care of me while I look. I mean if he doesn't mind of course. Though with how often he keeps watching me I doubt he would mind anything. I mean maybe he will. Oh I don't know."

"What can we do?" Frerin asked, cutting off Bilbo's nervous ranting, "while your searching," he clarified before Bilbo went off again about not needing the help currently.

"Well it's really not anything much," Bilbo said, "and honestly, you could ask one of the others to do it if your too busy. I wouldn't mind at all."

"Bilbo," Frerin said.

"It's just that I probably won't wake for some time," Bilbo said. "Searching is a rather complicated business and it takes quite a long time to accomplish. Especially if the other person is quite a long ways away. So I would need someone to take care of my body while I'm away."

"While you're away?" Frerin asked with a raised brow.

"Don't mind that," Bilbo said waving his hand dismissively. He was already too deep in thought about his planning to even be worried about his own wordings anyway. "I don't expect you to carry me the whole way there of course, but Myrtle is such a good girl that I should be able to ride her even without waking. She would never throw me. Well except the once, but I'm sure that was my own fault, so you really can't blame her. No. The only thing that I would really need, I'm sure, is food. Food, I'll have you know, is very important to a hobbit, and I shall waste away if I do not have it. Oh, but I suppose I won't be able to make you all any food for some time now. That is such a shame. I truly enjoy making food for everyone. Will you apologize to them for me? Oh I do feel horrible about it. Perhaps I can make a big feast tonight before I go Searching. Oh, but I can't do that without using up all of our stores and that is completely out of the question of course. I'll just have to make sure that it's extra delicious."

"So you just need us to feed you?" Frerin asked.

"Of course," Bilbo said. He opened his mouth to start again on his rambling, but this time Vili interrupted.

"Do you at least have some idea of how long you will be gone?" He asked.

Bilbo pouted at the rude dwarf. If he had any idea, he would have of course told them, but even he wasn't sure how long a Search would take (if he could even accomplish it). It's not like he had actually ever heard of it succeeding in the past.

"We need to know if there is something wrong," Vili continued.

"Well," Bilbo said, surprised that Vili's words were based on concern rather than suspicious, "I only know that it'll take a very long time. Hopefully it shouldn't be too long as I don't want to keep you all waiting of course, but it won't be a short time either. In fact, you should probably continue traveling to somewhere safe while I search. Just in case, you know."

"Just in case of what?" Vili asked.

"Just in case," Bilbo replied. He might have crossed his arms and turned away from the stubborn dwarf if he weren't currently on Vili's back, but as that was not an option, he simply turned his head up and away. He would not yield to Vili's questions.


	12. Chapter 12

Bilbo wasn't exactly sure when he fell asleep. And he honestly couldn't be blamed having lost the time anyway, thank you very much. How was he supposed to stay awake when Vili's steps (yes the very ones that woke him in the first place, but we shan't mention that) rocked him in such a way. And don't even get him started on the effects of the dwarven language on his wakefulness. Bilbo had always heard that Khuzdul was a guttural language filled with jagged edges and harsh lines (of course most people had only ever heard the language on the battlefield and what else could one expect in that environment), but when they switched to it after Bilbo's (rather frightening) declaration of his future intentions. He didn't understand a word of what they said (it is a secret language after all. Not even Bungo Baggins, who prided himself on having learned almost every language in Middle Earth, had never once had the chance to learn it),but he did find that it was not at all what he expected. Instead of the barking and biting that he had expected or the spitting hisses that he had sometimes mused might be in a word or two, their voices were a low grumble almost like the purr of a big (very dangerous) cat. Although there were some harsh points to it, the language had an overall poetic feel to it. It wasn't too quick to be confusing and yet it also wasn't slow enough to make one overly curious of the words spoken. It was almost like a lullaby to Bilbo's tired mind (his father had often sang him to sleep with languages he didn't understand when he was young) and he found himself unable to keep his eyes open.

So Bilbo could not tell when he fell asleep and nor could he honestly say exactly when he woke. It was sometime after dark (that much was obvious by the blackened world only illuminated by the fire) and they had apparently already set up camp (also rather obvious for the same reason), but they were somewhere underneath a canopy of trees and Bilbo couldn't see the stars to tell the exact time. It had to at least be around dinner time, or perhaps even supper time, but Bilbo wasn't particularly hungry. In fact, Bilbo did not feel much of anything. The night was not cold nor the fire warm. He felt no pain from his fall earlier (though he didn't actually know if he was injured enough to feel pain so that was of little concern). The most concerning of all, though, was that Bilbo felt no grass or twigs under his feet as he approached the dwarves. He thought for a moment that the dwarves had conspired to put (Yavanna forbid) boots on him, but when he looked down the fur on his toes was just as it should be, not at all ruffled by such an awful event. How strange that he couldn't feel anything through his feet, though they remained bare. Perhaps, Bilbo thought with a shrug, he was not fully awake (Mr. Proudfoot was known for complaining when he woke that it was far too early to feel his feet before going right back to bed) and he was still somewhat numb in his toes.

Myrtle looked up at him and tilted her head to one side. She was (as usual) munching on some grass at the edge of the group and Bilbo took this time to go over to her without interfering dwarves to get in his way. It was nice talking to them, of course, but he was beginning to feel that he may be neglecting his dear old Myrtle. Even though he rode her almost daily, he had not really gotten the chance to talk to her. After all their conversations on the journey to the mountain, she must miss it (or perhaps she didn't care and it was just Bilbo making things up).

"How are you Myrtle?" He asked her. "I do hope the dwarves have been good to you while I've been sleeping. Oh, but what am I saying, of course they have. They are good dwarves. Good people indeed. I think, even if my soulmate was not related to them, I should be very happy to have them as my friends you know. Though I could certainly do without their overprotectiveness to be sure. And I do wish that they would listen to me about this whole nonsense about my heart. But they're so good and I wouldn't wish to be parted from them now. Now, don't get me wrong, I do want to go back to the Shire and see all my good hobbits, but I don't think I'd ever have found such good friends in Hobbiton. It's funny, you know, only months ago I never would have even considered leaving Bag End, but now I've gone halfway across Middle Earth and I don't think I can imagine what my life would've been if I didn't. I would have been so bored staying in the Shire! Perhaps I may have even ended up like the Sackville-Bagginses. Absolutely miserable! Could you imagine me like that? Sitting around in my armchair with nothing to do, but scowl at the fire all day? Oh, that would be horrible! Absolutely horrendous! I would go mad. Than Lobelia really would have a reason to cast me out of my home. Though, if I were so crazy I may actually take up my pitchfork to chase her away. I have fantasizes about that, you know. Oh how nice it would be to see that she-witch running, screaming, from my tiny little pitchfork. I mean, it's not even a real pitchfork, you know, it's a small handheld thing only meant to help me in my gardening. I don't even think it's that sharp. But that would just make it all the funnier to see Lobelia Sackville-Baggins running from it. Oh, just thinking about it now has me laughing!" And he was indeed giggling between his words. "But that's very bad of me. If my father was here, I'm sure that he would be giving me a very disapproving look. Ill thoughts and foul deeds should be kept to oneself, he always said. Of course he didn't know that my mother often added "lest one make it easier to be caught."" Myrtle lifted her head and looked down her nose at Bilbo and it was so much like the look Bilbo was just talking about that it had Bilbo giggling once more.

"Do you think it's about time we wake him?" Frerin's voice broke through Bilbo's giggling and he turned to the fire where they sat. Perhaps he should go and join them. "He'll probably want to eat something."

Vili nodded and stood from his place beside the prince.

Wait, Bilbo thought suddenly, the prince? He had been so distracted by his own issues earlier that he had completely neglected to pay attention when Vili called Frerin that. Oh dear. Oh dear. He certainly had not been acting in anyway that one should when faced with royalty. Oh, his father would have a thing or two to say to him now. He had to make it up to them somehow. But what should he do now. A grand gesture such as him throwing himself at Frerin's feet in apology would hardly be accepted by his friend. And Bilbo cringed to even consider such a thing. He was a respectable hobbit after all and a grandson of the Thain of the Shire. He may not be royalty as such, but lowering himself in such a way would still be quite unacceptable. Nor could he do a traditional dwarven apology as that most sincere apology he knew of from their culture was to offer up braids, but he didn't actually have any braids to speak of. Of course, he already planned a feast for the dwarves as an apology for earlier and he couldn't very well just add that in on top of it. It would feel far too much like a last minute addition (which it would have been). All other things that he could think of would hardly be enough to make up for his faux paux and some of them were so out of the question that he might as well do nothing at all. But perhaps that's what Frerin would prefer? They hadn't yet corrected Bilbo thus far and Bilbo wasn't a big fan of that sort of formal pleasantry anyway (which may be a surprise to some as Bilbo was often known to proclaim that he was a "Baggins of Bag End" whenever it best suited him).

But if Frerin, who was related to his soulmate, was a prince, did that also mean that his soulmate was royalty? Oh dear. That complicated things. That complicated things quite a bit. What if his soulmate was to be betrothed to another. Of course, Bilbo had already decided that he would stand aside if his soulmate had found someone else that they loved, but it would be so much harder if the betrothal was not for love, but for other reasons entirely. Bilbo had often read stories of Royal humans marrying off their children for land or alliance or something and he would hate to see his soulmate suffer such a loveless fate. And what if they weren't betrothed or otherwise in love? Would they even be able to love a lowly hobbit such as Bilbo? Would Bilbo even be able to spend time with them? Royalty could be rather particular (or so Bilbo had heard) about who they spent time with. What if they cast him off and never let him see them again? What would Bilbo do then?

Bilbo clutched at his chest. His heart hurt and his throat felt like it was closing in on him. If he thought about it really hard he could even almost feel tears beginning to gather in his eyes.

"Now, Bilbo," he admonished himself angrily, "it does no good to dwell on such things. What's the point of fearing the future? It'll come either way. We'll just have to take it one step at a time. And I'm sure it will all turn out well in the end. For now, it's best to focus on the present or else you may as well lose your feet!"

Vili crouched over a mound of furs over by where Bilbo awoke earlier. He was shaking whoever was under rather vehemently and it looked like he was growing quite concerned. "Oin!" He called as he ripped away the furs and leaned down to press his head against the other's chest.

Oh, well, that's not good, Bilbo thought as he rushed forward to help in any way he could. Frerin and Oin came upon Vili first and they crowded around, making it hard for Bilbo to see what was going on. He only hoped that it wasn't one of the little ones. He couldn't remember any of them being sick recently, but children were always more susceptible to illness and losing them was always the hardest thing to endure.

"He's still breathing," Vili said, backing away to allow Oin his access. "But it's weak and he won't wake."

As Vili moved back Bilbo caught a short glance of the face of the one sleeping. What he saw there was rather more than a little alarming. Seeing oneself from the third person can be rather shocking after all. Bilbo looked down at himself again and only now did he realize that he could very clearly see through the fur on his toes all the way down to the dirt beneath his feet. He couldn't very well be blamed for missing it the first time, though, it was really dark, after all.

He really hadn't meant to go yet. Of course, it had always been his intention, but he had wanted to plan some things and possibly give the dwarves some warning before going off on his own, but what's done is done. Well no wonder the dwarves had left him alone to speak to Myrtle when he first woke (the dwarves were fond of surrounding him at every waking moment and Bilbo was rather tired of it all). Bilbo had no time to worry about it, though, as he felt something pulling him to the West. He would have to apologize for the sudden departure when (if) he returned (he had so many things to apologize for that he should really make a list before he forgets it all), but he was hardly eager to stay and wait.

He was finally going to see his soulmate!


	13. Chapter 13

As much as Bilbo longed to go and see his soulmate, he was also quite frightened. Who wouldn't be, after all, to see the person that they were destined to be with for the rest of their lives. So many thoughts swam through his head as they had done during the whole of his adventure. Especially more so now that there were no dwarves to distract him from his musings (not that he particularly minded their distractions, so banish the thought). He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even notice as his soul drifted upward into the night sky until he was far above the treetops.

"Woah!" said Bilbo when he finally came to himself and looked down at his feet. He would have jumped in his surprise if there was any solid ground beneath him. Instead he threw out his arms as though he were on a tight rope (an event that no hobbit would ever try with their large feet) balancing against the wind. He stayed like that for several moments, biting his lip and flailing his arms. And then he laughed at himself. "How silly!" he said. "If I were going to fall than I would have done so already. Or I wouldn't have come up here in the first place. We hobbits may enjoy the climbing of trees on occasion, though I suppose that is really only the faunts, but we surely can't fly. No one can. Oh except for maybe that man in that tale. Oh what was he called again? The one who made wings and flew too close to the sun? Oh, I don't remember. And I shouldn't fear that the same will happen to me, I suppose, what with it being night and all. But I suppose, if I keep dilly dallying here, then day will break and then I may have to worry. Only, where exactly am I supposed to go? Wasn't there supposed to be some way to see the connection with one's soulmate or something of that nature?"

As though summoned by his very words, a golden thread glittered in the light of the moon emanating from his heart and disappearing into the distance.

"Aha!" Bilbo laughed clapping his hands together. "Of course! The string of fate! I read about this in one of my stories I think. Well, that must be a good sign." After all, if someone has written about it, then they must have experienced it and returned back from it alive.

Bilbo took a step forward, and another, and another, but he did not move. Or if he did, it was barely so. The air was not, after all, very stable ground to push off from and all hobbits knew that any sort of walking should always be done on stable ground lest one slips and injures (or even muddle the hair on) one of their lovely big feet.

"Hmmm." Bilbo brought up his legs and tucked his feet crosswise beneath his knees and crossed his arms across his chest. This was a favorite of his thinking poses when he had the space to do so, but he did not often adopt it because his father's thinking chair (which was far more comfortable than any other place to think) was too small to fit him if he should be all crossed. So nowadays he only took up this pose when he was truly perplexed. And what a perplexing situation he was in now; he could see where to go, but could not get there. He could not return to the dwarves even if he could figure out how to move his spirit one way or another (he couldn't even figure out how he had managed to rise to such a height when he wasn't paying attention) because he couldn't actually see a destination, only a direction.

"This is hardly fair," he said to the string (perhaps talking to inanimate objects was a little much, but it's not as though there was anyone else to talk to, the birds weren't even out at this hour). "How could you show me where to go, but not actually take me there?" He thought for a moment about tugging on it until he was pulled along, but that idea was quickly thrown away by the thought that the string might snap (it did look very thin) and he would lose his connection forever. "I don't know what you're playing at here," he said, "but I'm starting to lose my patience, I'll have you know."

When that did not work and after a moment's hesitation, Bilbo frowned. And then a fear suddenly struck him. What if he was stuck like this? There were many hobbits that had gone off in the same way as he was doing only to never return. What if all of them were just stuck levitating over where their body was? For the rest of their days? Bilbo's heart pounded (much to Oin's distress as he was still keeping watch over Bilbo's body) and he clutched at his chest. "I don't want to be stuck here," he said. It was too much. To go all this way on all these adventures and to make so many friends only to be stuck in the middle of the sky staring at a golden thread that was his only connection to his soulmate. The only thing he would ever see of his soulmate. No. No, Bilbo would not be stuck here. He would go and see his soulmate, no matter what this stupid string thought about it.

And then, suddenly, the string pulled taught, tugging Bilbo with it. Bilbo flailed, his limbs caught in a tangle when he wasn't expecting the movement and he unraveled until he was laying on his stomach. He laughed again, this time high-pitched and giddy, as he spread out his arms and allowed himself to be tugged along. He was flying! He was actually flying! And as much as he had thought that he would hate to ever try such a thing (hobbit's were a people of the earth and they detested leaving it or its plants thank you very much), it was actually quite exhilarating. He passed over ranges of mountains and plenty of fields and trees. He may have passed near Rivendell, though he wasn't quite sure, but he could clearly make out at least some of the land that belonged to the Shire with the midday's sun. And it was all so fun to watch in the day or the night as the sun rose and fell in what felt like seconds to him.

Funnily enough, Bilbo was actually quite familiar with most of the way that he went. Of course, he couldn't quite make out all the landmarks that he had noted on his way to the Lonely Mountain, but he quite correctly identified some of the larger ones on his way. At first, he thought that he was going to go back to the Shire and he was more than a little annoyed (if he had just waited a little bit longer than his soulmate would have come to him), but he was soon far past it and into a land that he only recognized from his mother's maps. Until at last he came upon a range of Mountains.


	14. Chapter 14

If one were to look at the mountains from outside they may have been none the wiser that dwarves inhabited it. Of course, they may have at least guessed (it is common knowledge that dwarves inhabit mountains), but there was no actual sign of the living. Not even a single crop or garden. In fact, the land was somewhat barren that Bilbo was not the least bit happy to see it.

"If I come to live here," Bilbo said to himself, "I shall make sure that it is filled with green lands. Even if I have to pay the whole Gamgee family to come and do it all up for me. There's no one better for the making of gardens. Though perhaps I should actually hire the Proudfoots or one of the other families who are more kin to farming. I don't think this whole land could be made into a garden, though I would much prefer it that way. Besides, that would be far too much work for the Gamgee family alone. Although, perhaps there is a reason that the dwarves don't want greenery in front of their mountains. Of what I recall from my books, I don't think I can remember a single place where there was crops. What a way to live that would be. We would forever have to deal with trading. Of course, trading's not exactly a bad thing, but I shouldn't be dependent on it. Father always says that it's nice to depend on others sometimes, but you should always be able to take care of yourself no matter what. I don't think I've ever heard him ask for a favor. Except when asking mother of course. Though I do remember that many people owed him favors. But that's beside the point. The dwarves might not like to make crops and they might prefer their trade but I wonder who they trade with. I don't see any settlements anywhere near here. I'm sure there is one somewhere, but I don't think I've pulled out any maps of the Blue Mountains in a while, so I don't know where one might be."

Even without taking into account the lack of fields (which could also be explained away by the fact that the dwarves probably had only just moved in) there wasn't even a single living person outside the mountain. Not even a guard stood outside its walls. It reminded Bilbo somewhat of how deserted the lonely mountain had felt. Not a single living thing within the vicinity of its walls as though it had all been burned away. "Oh. I do hope there isn't another dragon in this one. I think I've seen enough of dragons in one life, and I shouldn't hope to see another here. Although, I don't feel any danger for my soulmate, so I suppose I shouldn't be too worried about it."

But now there was a little dilemma. Bilbo did not know much about the Blue Mountains, but unlike the Lonely Mountain, he did know that there was no grand entrance within its walls. And with no guards how was he supposed to know where he was to enter. "It would be rude not to enter through the front gate," he said to himself, tapping his foot in the air. "If I accidentally go through the back entrance then they might find me a little suspicious. I certainly wouldn't want that. Just imagine if my soulmate should think me some kind of a thief! I wouldn't know what to do with myself. I would be so ashamed. But it's not like I can just knock on the front door either. Especially not knowing where it is. I don't even know if I can touch things in the first place! Oh. I wonder if I can actually be seen. I suppose if I could, there would be a lot more sightings of random hobbits traveling the wild to find their soul mates. Oh, if only that were the case, maybe we wouldn't lose so many of them. But I suppose it can't be true then, and I worried for nothing. Wait a minute. Does that mean that my soulmate can't see me either? Well, that's just cruel. I travel all this way just to meet them and they can't even see me! Well, I suppose I didn't travel all this way just to meet him. I did have something else that I had to do. What was it again? I'm sure it was important. Oh! But now I can't remember!" Bilbo stomped his foot (tripping slightly when he was met with air). Of course, Bilbo was known to have horrible memory, but he had never once forgotten such an important task. Oh, it would surely haunt him if he didn't figure it out soon.

"Well, perhaps I am just distracted by the prospect of meeting my soulmate. Perhaps, once I do that, my mind will start working correctly again." Mind made up, (without much argument since Bilbo was not one to say no to the pleasure of meeting his soulmate), Bilbo decided that no wall was going to stand in his way of getting to his soulmate.

And, very surprisingly, no wall did. Because immediately after he decided it wouldn't, he was on the other side of it in a dark pathway lit only by some torches. Happily, there were also dwarves rushing about within the halls as well. Bilbo found himself jumping out of more than one of their way (and he almost thought them rude for not at least saying excuse me until he remembered that none of them could probably even see him), as he scrambled after his thread. He was so distracted, in fact, by dodging one dwarf after another that he didn't notice he was heading straight for a large wooden door until he had run straight through it and the noise suddenly grew quiet.

Bilbo froze. The room, in and of itself was nothing to gawk at. It was a simple room with a long table at its center that was surrounded by chairs of every size and shape. Whoever owned this table must have a good (which to a hobbit means large) family (because what's the point of ordering matching chairs when another child would soon be on its way to add to the number).

Any thought of the room and the family that might have owned it was only passing as Bilbo's eyes were glued mostly on the glittering thread that swayed over the table until it reach the handsomest dwarf Bilbo had ever seen (to be fair, though, he was a little bias).

The dwarf was large with broad shoulders and muscular arms, but he looked even more so with the cape of fur thrown over his shoulders. His hair was long and deep brown with only two small braids tucked behind his ears. Bilbo could not yet see his face (and what a shame that is to be denied such a handsome face) because the dwarf's head was held in his hands, but he was sure that it would be better than anything he had ever imagined. Oh, and the dwarf's hands were so large that Bilbo was sure that he could probably envelop Bilbo's own with ease. To be held by such hands would be the height of happiness (because hobbits loved to touch the ones that they loved and holding hands was they're favorite pass time with each other).

Oh, what a lovely dwarf Bilbo had received as a soulmate. He clapped, jumping on his toes (very happy to be able to now that he was firmly on solid ground), and the dwarf's head shot up. Bilbo froze as his eyes met those lovely blue eyes. He was lost in them as the two stared at each other for several blissful moments.

And then the dwarf stood, knocking his chair back while his hand went to the hilt of his sword. "Who are you?" He asked, his voice a deep bass that made Bilbo's heart flutter.

Bilbo looked behind him. Then to his right. Then to his left. Not another living soul in sight. He scrunched his brows and looked back at his soulmate who was still very much staring at him with a scowl (such an expression did not suit him and Bilbo didn't like it at all) on his face. Then finally he pointed at himself, tilting his head in question.

"Of course, I'm speaking to you," the dwarf growled. "Now tell me who you are and what you are doing trespassing in these lands."

"You can see me?" Bilbo asked.

"You stand there clear as day. Do you think yourself invisible? Or perhaps you think me blind."

"You can hear me too?" Bilbo grinned. Oh this was the best day so far. He finally, finally got to meet his soulmate and he can both see and hear him. Bilbo could not have asked for anything better! Oh, this was truly all he need in life. He could be content to stay here forever."

"Answer me!" The dwarf demanded.

"Oh dear!" Bilbo gasped. He had only just met his soulmate and he had already made him angry. Oh, what was with him and his making bad first impressions? Bungo Baggins would be turning in his grave (and Beladonna would certainly jump on the chance to say that if she were here)! "I'm terribly sorry! I just wasn't expecting anyone to see me. No one has thus far, but you are so amazing! You can both see and hear me!

The dwarf's eyes narrowed, but his hands slipped from his sword. "Are you some kind of a spirit?" He asked.

"I'm a hobbit!" Bilbo said indignantly. "But, although, now that I think about it, I suppose I am a spirit right now. I mean, I don't have my body with me, but I'm not actually dead. Well, at least I don't think I'm dead yet. The dwarves did say that they would look after my body and I have no reason to distrust them, but you know, you can never know what might happen. Not that I'm hoping that anything happened to them. I should be very sad if anything should happen to them."

"What dwarves?" the dwarf said when he could finally get a word in (Bilbo was indeed a master babbler).

"The dwarves I'm travelling with, of course," Bilbo said. "They are so good to me. Though, I think it's only because they like my food." Bilbo laughed. "But they've been taking care of me ever since we left the lonely mountain. Although, sometimes I think it's a bit much, if I do say so myself. Sometimes they act like I'm just going to keel over at any minute. All because I fainted. I think I was highly justified in fainting, though, thank you very much. I mean, I'd like to see them not faint when coming face to face with a dragon!"

"A dragon?" The dwarf asked.

"Oh yes," Bilbo said. "What a frightening creature he was. He was large and red with massive golden eyes and I don't even think I was bigger than his snout. Oh, and his breath didn't smell very good, if I do say so myself. So, you see, I was very justified in my fainting when I returned to them, but they certainly won't believe that!"

"You are talking about the creature Smaug," the dwarf said. His words came out like a someone who had not gotten any breath in some time and his eyes widened as he leaned forward over the table.

"Was that the dragon's name?" Bilbo asked. "I don't believe I caught it until now. Oh, maybe that's why he was so angry with me. It was so rude of me not to even bother asking his name before conversing." Of course, he's completely forgotten the fact that he has yet to exchange names with the dwarf (his soulmate) he was currently speaking with. "Now, I feel bad."

"Could it be," the dwarf said, "that you are travelling with dwarves of Erebor?"

"Of course!" Bilbo said. "There was so many dwarves of all sizes stuck in this small room. I offered them food and they've been following me ever since. There's two in particular who have been kind to me. Although, I suppose I should actually include a third, though until recently I was absolutely sure he hated me. Perhaps you know them. Their names were…Their names were…" Bilbo tapped his chin. Surely he wouldn't have forgotten the names of such good friends. He didn't have that bad of memory. Yet nothing was coming to him even as he thought and thought. "What were their names again?" How could he have forgotten their names? He clutched his head. He had travelled so far and they had been taking such good care of him this whole time. Yet he couldn't even recall one of the dwarf's names. "I don't understand," he said, pounding his fist against his forehead. "I don't understand." He yanked at his hair, pacing back and forth (partially dipping into the wall as he went) and his heart ached. Perhaps his dwarf friends would be worried for him, but he didn't deserve it if he couldn't even remember their names. Such a horrible friend he was. At least he could remember his pony's name…right? Her name was Myrtle. Yes. Myrtle. Of course it was. Myrtle was such a kind sweet pony. There was no way that Bilbo would ever forget her name. And yet, for some reason he still couldn't recall the dwarves' names! Such a horrible friend. He slammed his hands against his head again and again. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

"Stop!" Suddenly a massive hand encircled both of Bilbo's wrists and pulled them away from his face. "Calm down!" The dwarven face of his beloved soulmate was suddenly so close that Bilbo could see each strand of the dwarf's beard. It had been freshly cut, but there were still a few places that looked a little singed. It was his eyes that truly caught Bilbo's attention while they had been beautiful from afar, they were absolutely stunning up close. Their depths were such that Bilbo was sure he would drown in them if he stared for too long. Yet they looked so sad. There were even dark swollen bags under the dwarf's eyes that could have been from lack of sleep or from crying too much. Perhaps it was both? "Perhaps I do know them as you've said. If you describe them, I may even know their names. So please, stop crying." His fingers caressed Bilbo's cheek and the connection was electric. They were so warm that Bilbo thought he might actually melt into them. But then they came away wet with his own tears and Bilbo was shocked. He hadn't even realized that he was crying. Nor that his soulmate could touch his tears. Nor that he could touch him. His soulmate truly was amazing.

* * *

AN: Just want to wish everyone some happy holidays! ^_^


	15. Chapter 15

"Have you calmed down now?" The dwarf asked after a moment, still running his thumb over Bilbo's cheek.

"Yes," Bilbo said. "Yes, I'm okay now. I don't know what came over me. I'm usually not so bad with names, though my memory can't be said to be good in the first place. But I seem to be very forgetful as of late. I can't even remember why I've come here. Besides meeting with you of course. I'm sure it was something really important, but I just can't think of it. Yet the dwarves trusted me with this task and I would feel awful if I should fail it. I already have much that I feel sorry for. Oh, but surely nothing will top forgetting their names. I truly am a horrible friend. Please don't tell them that I've forgotten their names."

"I cannot," said the dwarf, "when I do not know which dwarves you are referring to. Perhaps you could describe them?"

"Oh yes," Bilbo said. "You did say that. I don't know what's come over me. I just can't think straight at all." Bilbo thought about his friends. Yet even their faces were suddenly blurry to him. It was like he hadn't seen them for many years, though he knew he had only seen them a few days before. Or maybe it was weeks. Surely it couldn't have been more than a month. Though, the sun had risen and fallen too fast for Bilbo to really keep any track of. "Well, I can't say for sure. I mean, I don't know why, but for some reason I can't quite recall what they look like. It's all a bit fuzzy I'll have you know. But they had blonde hair. Or was it black. Or white. I think one definitely had white hair. Or grey. He's pretty old I think. His hair's greyed with age. I think. But the other one is blonde. And the third has black hair, or brown hair. It's definitely darker than the other two. At least I think it was. Yes. Yes it was."

"Blonde hair is a rare feature for dwarves," the dwarf said. "Could you describe that one a bit more?"

"Oh!" Bilbo said, clapping his hands. "That's true. Now that I think of it, no one in our group has blonde hair. Well, except for me." He plucked at his own honey blonde hair pulling a curl forward for the dwarf to inspect. "Oh! And the prince! He's got really blonde hair. Even blonder than mine."

The dwarf froze, his eyes widened and his jaw opened by millimeters. Bilbo got the feeling that this dwarf was not known for showing his emotions. Perhaps this was the closest to shock that Bilbo would ever see.

Then the dwarf's grip tightened and he shook Bilbo by the shoulders, cutting off anything more Bilbo might have tried to say. "Did you say the prince?" he asked. "You said a blonde prince?"

"Yes," Bilbo said, trying to keep himself from losing all his senses while his head was knocked about by the shaking. It wasn't exactly the nicest thing to be shaken in such a way.

"Is it Frerin?" the dwarf asked. "Please tell me its Frerin!"

"Yes!" Bilbo gasped, pointing at the dwarf in front of him. "Yes! You got it! That's the one I was trying to think of."

The dwarf suddenly sagged. His breath came out of him as a whisper. "He's alive… I can't believe it… He's actually alive."

"Well, of course he is," Bilbo said. "At least he was last I saw him. I don't know how long ago that was, but they seem very capable of taking care of themselves if I do say so myself. Besides, he's got that guard of his. He's the one that I thought hated me, but he's actually very kind if you get to know him."

Once again the dwarf's eyes widened as his head shot up. "Vili?"

"Yes!" Bilbo clapped his hands. "You're really good at this. I was having such a hard time remembering them, but you just figured it out so quickly. I should have known, though. Frerin is related to you after all."

The dwarf's head sagged once more. So much so that Bilbo thought he might actually fall on the ground (which was not a very good idea since it was quite dirty). "Thank you," he said quietly. "Thank you so much."

"I don't know what you're thanking me for," Bilbo said. "I didn't really do anything. The dwarves are the ones who have been taking care of me this whole time. But maybe you should have a seat. You aren't looking too well if I do say so myself. I find that sitting for a bit always makes me feel better." He tried to direct the dwarf to a wobbly seat nearby, but his feet were thoroughly planted. "Oh, if only I had some tea. Tea is the best thing to soothe the soul. Or so my mother always says when she makes some for my father. He was a worrisome fellow. But, I mean, it's not like he didn't have reason to worry. My mother wasn't the carefulest of hobbits and I often heard that when I was born I only added to his troubles. But father loved us very much, I think, no matter what those busybodies from the Shire may say."

With every word that Bilbo spoke, the dwarf seemed to come back to himself just that little bit more. Until he was standing tall (quite the handsome figure if Bilbo did say so himself). "You said you were travelling with the dwarves correct?" Bilbo nodded. "Then can you bring them a message for me?"

"Of course!" Bilbo grinned. "I will be happy to do so. Only, I'm not quite sure where they are at the moment. I'm already a little concerned about finding my body, you know. Hobbits don't often leave their bodies and I've never heard of one returning to it. Perhaps it is hard to find? I mean, it was easy enough getting here because of that thread, but I don't know how on earth I'm going to get back."

"If I help you find your body, will you bring them my message?"

"If I am able to return, I will certainly tell them anything you have to say," Bilbo agreed with a steadfast nod. He would not forget this time. He couldn't forget. Anything that his soulmate said to him had to be seriously important enough to stick in his mind no matter how forgetful he was.

The dwarf nodded and went to the door, calling for a guard. "Bring me a map immediately. One that spans the distance between here and Erebor."


	16. Chapter 16

"Well," said Bilbo when the door was closed again. He honestly didn't know what to say next, but he didn't want their conversation to end so soon (he didn't know when they would meet again after all).

There was silence (very awkward if Bilbo did say so himself) in which neither of them did anything. Bilbo got so antsy that he began to play with his fingers and tap his toes. Surely there was something to be said at this time, but nothing would come to mind. Not even his go to small talks about the weather (which was understandable since he couldn't see the sky anyway). Bilbo bit his lip. He couldn't very well be blamed for his distraction, though. How could he? When his soulmate was right there. And so handsome at that. Anyone would be driven to distraction.

The dwarf finally sat on the chair Bilbo had been trying to put him in earlier and gestured Bilbo to do the same in the one to his right. The chair was a little big for the hobbit, but at least he didn't have to crawl into it like the chairs of the big folk. Still, his feet hung just shy of the floor and Bilbo had to stop himself multiple times from swinging them like a child.

"May I ask your name?" the dwarf asked after another moment of silence.

"Oh dear me!" Bilbo gasped. "Oh dear! Oh dear! How could I be so stupid. Oh dear. My father would be so ashamed of me. This is the second time I have absolutely failed at an introduction. I should have introduced myself as soon as I walked through the door. Anything later is discourteous. Well, at least it is for my people. I suppose I shouldn't assume what is courteous to the dwarves. Oh dear. I hope I haven't offended any of my friends."

"I'm sure they are not offended," the dwarf said. "Nor am I. I have also failed to introduce myself. I am Thorin, son of Thrain, son of…" his voice caught and his eyes shifted low. There was a gleam in his eyes almost like unshed tears. Bilbo nibbled on his lip. Perhaps he should say something, but he had already tallied up his rude behavior and to interrupt would only add to the score (which was far too high already thank you very much). "Thror." Thorin said finally. His voice barely more than a whisper (though to Bilbo's sensitive ears, it may have as well been spoken loud and clear).

"It is a pleasure," Bilbo said with as much cheer as he could muster. Anything to make Thorin stop showing such a sad look. He scurried down from his chair and swept himself low in a bow (though it was so awkward to him that he was sure that he would fall over any moment from it). "My name is Bilbo Baggins…Oh! Um… Son of Bungo Baggins." Hobbit culture did not require someone to introduce the name of their father, but it certainly seemed that dwarf culture did. He would have to get used to it. "Good evening. Well, at least I think it is evening. I can't quite tell actually."

"It is just after sunset," Thorin said.

Just then there was a knock on the door and then a dwarf stepped in without even waiting for a response. Bilbo thought that was a bit rude (what was the point of knocking if you weren't actually going to wait anyway). Perhaps dwarves cared less for such things. Or perhaps the only reason this was allowed was because this was the dwarf Thorin asked to bring a map. At least that's what Bilbo assumed based on the handful of rolled up papers he had in hand.

The new dwarf was an old fellow with grey hair and a round nose. He looked like he should have been a jolly dwarf, but his face was aged with grief and his eyes swollen from tears. Of course, Bilbo had realized that the dwarves had been through a lot, but none had yet actually shown any signs of it. It made Bilbo want to cry himself. He may not know exactly what these people had been through, but he at least had some idea what such a loss could do to a person. He probably didn't look much better after his parents had died (though he can't really remember, it was so long ago).

"Balin," Thorin said, inclining his head towards the newcomer.

Bilbo turned so he was fully facing the other dwarf. "Good evening," he said. He would show his soulmate that he did have some semblance of manners. "My name is Bilbo Baggins." (Of course he had already forgotten to introduce his father, but he could hardly be blamed for forgetting such a thing when he had only just learned it).

"I was told you were asking for these," Balin said, attempting some semblance of a smile and completely ignoring Bilbo (which the hobbit thought was quite rude actually until he remembered that Balin probably couldn't even see him, let alone hear him). He placed the papers down and rolled out one of them to show a map that ranged from the sea in the East all the way to the Iron Hills in the West. Immediately, Bilbo's interest was piqued. He had a great love for maps. In fact, if they were in the Shire, he could probably pull out a map that focused more closely on each of the important lands between here and there. With all the best paths too (at least according to his mother).

"Yes," Thorin said. "This will do nicely."

"Is there anything particular you were looking for?" asked Balin. "I could point it out to you if need be."

"No Balin," Thorin said. "This is all that I need."

"Are you sure you?" Balin asked. Bilbo got the feeling he was pressing rather a little more than he probably should.

"I'm fine Balin," Thorin said.

"If you're sure," Balin finally nodded, backing to the door with a short bow. "I'll just be down the hall if you should want me for anything else."

"Thank you Balin." And with that the door closed and the two of them were alone once more.

Bilbo took this moment to shift closer to the map and get a better look (and so what if he also got closer to Thorin in doing so, there was no need for you to suggest that was his actual intention). Immediately, he could trace his general path, though he wasn't exactly sure where the exact positioning was.

"They really can't see you," Thorin said, still staring at the dwarf. "I have to admit. I did not believe you at first. Why should I be so blessed?" This last part was said in a mumble and Bilbo knew that he wasn't meant to have heard it, but who would be able to hold their curiosity when faced with a statement such as that (quite a lot of people would if we're being honest, but Bilbo was known to be a curious one, so we can give him at least that). Besides, should it not be Bilbo who is commenting that he doesn't deserve to be so blessed by such a magnificent specimen as this handsome dwarf.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"What?" Thorin said.

"What do you mean by asking why you should be blessed."

Thorin thought for a moment, rubbing the scruff at his chin. Then he sighed. "I suppose you do deserve to know. There is rumor in our history of spirits visiting a blessed few. These spirits who called themselves Hobbits bring with them plenty and prosper until they disappear."

"Well," Bilbo said, "we hobbits certainly aren't spirits. But perhaps you have seen some of the ones who did the same as me. I'm so glad to hear that they made it. We've always wondered, you see."

Thorin hesitated, not knowing what to say for a moment before finally leaning over the map to change the subject. "I assume you took this path," Thorin said, tracing his finger over the line that went down from the Lonely Mountain and then split left through the forests of Greenwood and up towards the Grey Mountains. "It should have taken you near Moria."

Bilbo bit his lip hard. Now he realized why that Balin fellow had been so insistent on staying to help with the map. Thorin was trying so hard to look like he knew what he was talking about (and how cute he looked while doing it), but he was certainly not at all reading the map correctly. He was even pointing to a rive as though it was an actual path. And then to say that Moria was in the Grey Mountains (of course Bilbo wouldn't have known where Moria was either if this map hadn't clearly marked it with an arrow and all) when it was actually located much more South in the Misty Mountains.

"No," Bilbo said, pinching his leg to stop himself from giggling. "We decided to take the long way around the forest." Bilbo traced his finger around the edges of the trees until he'd passed under the southern end. Then he came back up again until he right on top of the word _Moria_ pointed to (okay so he was being just a bit cheeky) _._ "And this was the last place I know of us being."

Thorin's eyes widened when he saw just where Bilbo was pointing and he grabbed once more at Bilbo's shoulders. "You actually went straight to Moria?!" he asked, his eyes wide and his hands tight. "What in Mahal's name were you thinking? Did you want to get yourselves killed."

Bilbo yelped. He had certainly not expected such a reaction. And why should he be blamed for it anyway. "Well, how was I supposed to know that it would be dangerous! I didn't know there would be a-" All at once the memory of that place came crashing down on him. There was blood on his hands and a tang in his nose. He could see their faces. Their eyes, cold and bare. Someone was screaming far in the distance, crying out. Screaming in pain and fear. Asking someone, anyone, to come and save them. Anyone. But no one would come. No one would find him. No one would save him. Not now that his parents were dead. There was no one left. No one would come for him.

"Bilbo!" Thorin shook him and suddenly his wide eyes looked filled with fear. He pulled Thorin close to him, wrapping his arms around the small hobbit and rocking slightly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please stop screaming."


End file.
